


Dean's Failed Deal 2.0

by justsimplymeagain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alcohol, Angry!Kevin, Brief Don and Maggie Stark, M/M, Possible Redemption, Post Season 8, Re-Written version, Stuck with it all Dean, drunk!Dean, sick!Sam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-13
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2017-12-29 06:57:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 39,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1002323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justsimplymeagain/pseuds/justsimplymeagain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From one failed deal comes a connection one doesn't expect and the other never wanted. From one failed deal comes the closes to a spouse a Winchester could have. From one failed deal comes redemption for a demon who never wanted it.</p><p>A/N: Currently discontinued due to my computer having to be reformated and all the notes and what I had done on this story being lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Failed Deal

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-written version of the story I had posted called "Dean's Failed Deal" and this story will have some basics from the first version but it won't be following the same path. All the same, I hope you enjoy the story and have patience with me because I can't promise updates right away due to the fact that I am trying to keep the chapters around the same length as this chapter.

Dean couldn't believe where he was standing again, what life and his current situations have led him to. But Dean was quickly running out of options and Dean wasn't exactly jumping at the chance to call to an angel or any angel for assistance, he's learnt that they couldn't be trusted through experiences in the Apocalypse and then the Civil War between Cas and Raphael. It didn't mean demons were any more trustworthy, it was just that Dean knows what to expect with demons and he knows how to get out of a deal if he needed to. It all depended on the fine print of this deal.

What Dean was doing could be counted as complete and utter stupidity. But then Dean never really counted himself as the smart one. He wasn't the one who went to collage or chased after his own dreams. He was a guy who lived by doing and sometimes not even. The one who does the collage thing and chasing after his own dreams was all Sam. It made Dean really proud.

Dean looked at his watch noting the time to be eleven at night before taking a moment to stare at the sky for a moment he could hear his own voice in his mind say four words that was the sum of what would become a big part of who he was.

_“Watch out for Sammy.”_

Dean could remember when he said that to his Father so many times. Before every hunt that John Winchester left on and left Dean in charge. Watch out for Sammy was the core of his being, it was and is Dean's number one job. It was who he was, Dean didn't know what to do without that job. It came before revenge, before hunting and most importantly before himself. It was what he was useful for. It was what had him going against their Father's orders. The order that stated that if he couldn't save Sam then he would have to kill Sam.

Dean never followed through with that order. He never will. Sam was just too important, so there will always be a way to save him. To hold him up when Sam needed to be held up. To detox him when he falls. Whatever needed to be done. Dean can do it, will do it.

But things have changed so much and not all of it for the best. Azazel was just a drop in the pond compared to what it really was, what the special children meant. What going to Hell was for. The seals. The Apocalypse. It was just too big and it was a miracle that it didn't come to pass. But the costs were too high. Too great. Ellen and Jo. Sam as well, even though Dean got Sam back he was still apart of the casualties of the Apocalypse.

And if Dean thought that was the end of it, he was sadly mistaken. Fate was a bitch towards him and his little brother. Due to civil wars in Heaven and then corruption in Dean's closes friend brought on another plague that had to be dealt with. The Leviathans. Dick Roman commanding them all. And again to fight such a hungry creature the costs were again too high. Bobby was killed, shot in the head and tried to be a ghost.

Bobby failed and then they had to burn the last remaining thing they had of him. The thing Bobby attached himself to. A flask that Bobby carried around and then Dean carried around. Sentiment, but Dean couldn't let it go until it came to a point that there was no other choice. Bobby was losing control as a ghost and doing things Dean never thought Bobby could do.

They thought his soul passed on, hopefully to the happy highway in Heaven. But they were wrong. Dean was wrong. And Dean should have expected it.

Dean learnt what happened to Bobby's soul on the second trail to close Hell's Gates for good. They only knew about the way to close Hell because of the existence of the Word of God that was written about Demons and probably Hell as well. And they only got the directions by the translations from Kevin Tran, a pain in the ass kid who happened to be the Prophet of the Lord.

But like everything, the cost was too high and Dean called it off before he had to live with that cost.

Sam would have died and Dean couldn't let that happen.

Sam was in the process of completing the third trial. The trial that would cure a demon. The entire thing from the first trail to the third was weakening Sam, breaking him down and making him sick. Dean vowed to carry his brother because he wasn't the one able to put himself through the trails. For that Dean felt like he could have done more, should have done more. If only there was a way to carry that burden himself instead of Sam.

But it was Sam all the same. It was always Sam.

And to top all of the situations they gone through, there was unease and so many issues between them that Dean knew of but denied. There was the lack of trust and then there was the pain and the sadness. Things weren't the way they used to be between himself and his little brother. That much was always a thought away. The church situation simply brought it out in the open and it forced them both into a situation where there was only option.

The truth. Opening up, whatever you wanted to call it.

_“You know what I confessed in there? What my greatest sin was? It was how many times I let you down. I can't do that again...”_

Of course Dean tried to interrupt, a simple name. Sam's name. Dean would have endured Alastair's rack instead of the heartbreak he felt and seen on his brothers face. The brother he swore to protect before all else. And failed so many times.

_“What happened when you've decided I can't be trusted again? I mean, who are you gonna turn to next time instead of me? Another angel, another – another vampire? Do you have any idea what it feels like to watch your brother just --”_

On that Dean had to cut in, he just had to. They both made that mistake, not just Dean. Sam trusted a demon before Dean, went with a demon before Dean. But Dean was not innocent either, he knows this. He wakes up and goes to bed knowing this and reminding himself of it. Torturing himself with it.

His own words rang in his head. True and honest and at the time, just what was needed for them. For Sam.

_“Hold on, hold on! You seriously think that? Because none of it -- none of it -- is true. Listen, man, I know we've had our disagreements, okay? Hell, I know I've said some junk that set you back on your heels. But, Sammy...come on. I killed Benny to save you. I'm willing to let this bastard and all the sons of bitches that killed mom walk because of you. Don't you dare think that there is anything, past or present, that I would put in front of you! It has never been like that, ever! I need you to see that. I'm begging you.”_

It worked well enough because Sam stopped and Dean did the one thing he could think of doing at the time. He dragged his gigantic little brother into a hug. Unfortunately like always life dealt them a problem they would have to deal with. It was always them who had to bare this sort of burden on their shoulders.

The angels started to fall. Not just a couple, but all of them. It was a horrific sight and there was a beauty to that horror that Dean hated and couldn't deny to himself. With his brother on the ground next to the Impala, their unconventional home between stops, Dean watched it happen and prayed and hoped and was scared for Castiel.

But Dean had to worry about Castiel later. Right then he had to get Sam up and to safety. Tucking him into the passenger seat and then went to fetch Crowley who struggled and put up a fuss as Dean forced him into the trunk. He couldn't let the King of Hell out of his site, the demon was both useful and a threat. Not to mention the things Crowley has done was still fresh in his mind as he drove to the hospital. It was the first place he could think of in regards to getting his brother the help he needs.

The hospital of course was not the best places, instinct and experience always had Dean wanting to leave as quick as he could. There was so many things that preyed upon the weak here. There was sorrow and sickness and death. Dean had enough of that in his job, he didn't like sitting with it for hours. But he refused to leave Sam's side and the nurses and doctor's gave up after awhile. Dean always found his way back in or he would stare them down when they tried to tell him visiting hours were over.

Sam kept getting worse though. Dean was getting desperate. He made phone calls, other hunters who would still speak with Dean. Garth didn't answer, Dean wouldn't admit it but he was worried about the young hunter who seemed so untouched by life because he could still smile and joke around. Garth still seemed lighthearted. Dean envied him at times, but he won't say a word. Not one. It just wasn't how Dean was with other people.

The next idea was to use witches. Not just any witches, he had to find ones that were old and powerful and Dean prayed willing to help him. It would cost, everything does. But for Sam Dean would do this, his brother was worth it and Dean didn't know what to do without him. But Dean tried to kill them, both Dean and Sam. Sure their marriage might have been saved, which Dean figures is a good thing, but they owed the Winchester's nothing.

The husband, Don Stark himself saved them twice. Once from his wife and her hex coins and then against a Leviathan. So in all rights Dean had no right to even consider asking a favour from one or both of them. But he still contacted James Frampton and asked what he knew in regards of either Don and Maggie Stark. He knew of them, regarded them with a lot of respect and wasn't fond of the idea of going near them because of the family feuds they can have.

After that Dean waited because that was all he could do at this point as he watched his brother deteriorate before his eyes. It was a painful thing to bare and Dean felt like he was going to suffocate for it. He could pray, he could send out an all bulletin to all angels in the area. But he couldn't, he just couldn't do that. As far as he's seen angels have screwed Castiel over if Naomi was any indication then Dean wasn't going to put his brother anywhere near them if he could help it and until he knows it's completely safe for Sam.

So he hoped instead.

His phone rang causing Dean to jump and let out a few curses in response before he checked who it was. It was James Frampton, Dean hoped that it was good news. So he answered and listened carefully. It was semi-good news. It wasn't James Frampton, the voice was female and Dean instantly recognized it as Maggie. She wanted to know what this was about and she wanted a good reason to not kill the familiar Portia or James himself. She was upset obviously, Dean could hear Don in the background saying something. They must be on good terms still because Maggie relented and the phone was obviously put on speaker phone.

The first thing Dean did was ask James if he was okay and then what was he thinking. Dean wanted information and possible contact information not for James to go find them himself after he told Dean that he knew of them. But the former detective obviously wanted to do something that put his skills to work.

They wanted answers to what this was about, so Dean told them and it was the truth. In order to get what he wants, the truth was required. Maggie wasn't entirely fond of them, it was obvious that she brought up the fact that Dean and his brother tried to kill her and her husband but Don must have been semi-sympathetic because he pointed out that he would have do the same for her. Don had some if not a lot of understanding for family.

He was Dean's chance here.

Dean did what he didn't think he would ever do, he pleaded. Don relented and with Maggie in tow, it didn't take them long to simply appear in the same hospital room as Dean who reacted on instinct. His gun drawn and Maggie simply removed it from his hand with a flick of her wrist. There was no question she was powerful.

They were there to help much to Dean's disbelief. Dean asked what it would cost, what he had to do for it. There wasn't anything they owed them, but the cost they said would be high. Dean accepted that, but before they could tell him he asked why. And it was simple, they wanted to see how the story ends. They read the books, the books that were both a curse and a blessing to Dean. A curse because of Crowley and right now a blessing because they could help save Sam.

The cost was the lives of five people. Their life source combined to power the spell that would ensure that Sam lived. In a sense Dean figured it was like paying reapers five lives to keep one. Dean couldn't help but wonder what Death would think, no doubt he'd be disappointed in Dean for this decision.

But Dean agreed and a week later he was able to take Sam out of the hospital. Don and Maggie Stark were gone, no doubt back to their own lives and James phoned to let him know that he was okay. It didn't take Sam long to wake up after that and as soon as Dean could he got Sam out of the hospital and back to the one place Dean could think of going.

To the Bunker.

Sam was weak and tired still, but Dean could work with that. He's worked with worse and with less. So with a familiarity to it Dean hauled Sam inside and got him comfortable.

Closing his eyes Dean remembered the day after he got Sam back to the bunker.

_Sam was in the Library, Dean ended up chuckling and mocking him about it being the first place he would go as soon as he was able to. But there was no denying that it was going to be Sam's favorite place to go. It was right up Sam's alley. Dean invited himself to sit down with his little brother who looked tired and haggard still but Dean could work with that._

_“Okay Samantha, out with it.” Dean pushed, his brother was obviously wanting to say something but unnaturally quiet. Sam was pushy, and he pushed and pushed and pushed when he wanted to know something or talk about feelings. Him not pushing and not forcing the issue made Dean more concerned then if he was._

_It too two minutes longer then what it should have for Sam to speak up._

_“Kevin's still here. He doesn't seem to want to be here, don't blame him there. Castiel looks like he has one foot out the door and he just got here. Angels are no longer in heaven, hell is still open and we have Crowley in a holding cell. Still...” Sam said, it was obvious to Dean that Sam no doubt thought over what to say enough that it probably pushed him to hesitate or stressed him. No doubt keeping him awake at night. Dean frowned as a response._

_“We'll do what we always do. We keep going, screw everything else that says this and that. We carry on Sam, that's all we can do. One day at a time. Kevin has to stay, this is the safest place for him. Cas... Cas we'll figure out how to help him. Help him figure out how to do the human thing.” Dean stated, he meant what he was saying. How could he not? They were trying to be honest with each other. Trying to be open with each other. It was a promise they made when Sam first woke up in the hospital after Don and Maggie did theremagic thing._

_Dean was hoping to keep to it. He hoped he wouldn't fail to keep to it._

So far Dean hasn't failed, and that was something. Wasn't it? It had to be. So Dean kept pushing forward, kept forcing tomato and rice soup on his brother and chasing him to bed when he needed to sleep. Sam protested all the way and on bad days neglected Dean's efforts to help him altogether. Nothing existed then. So Dean did the one thing he could think of. He sat in the same room as Sam. Sometimes spoke of things from their childhood. Dean's cherished memories. Sometimes Dean didn't speak at all.

It was always worth it to get a reaction from Sam after awhile.

Not too long after Dean brought Sam home from the hospital, Castiel made the decision to leave.

And there was little else he could do since Castiel left on his own free will. Determined and refusing the Winchester's help because this was something the angel felt like he had to do himself. Dean couldn't blame him on that. There was things in Dean's life that he had to do himself and there was things that Sam had to do for himself. It didn't mean that Castiel had to break all connections to them. Dean was determined to hold onto the last friend he had.

_“Take the phone Cas.” Dean stood in front of Castiel and between the former angel and the door. Sam stood back, giving them space. He already said his farewells and Dean refused to let the angel go without a way to contact him if need be. Dean won't admit that his throat was gaining a lump that didn't belong there. Castiel was making it seem like he wouldn't come back, like he planned to just disappear for good. Leave Dean and Sam and move on._

_Maybe that would be for the best? It was a bitter thought to live with but it was there, lingering._

_“Dean...” Castiel said. He sounded like he always did. Gruff like the vocal cords couldn't handle his true form's voice. But Cas was all human and Dean wondered when event hat would disappear._

_“Take it and if you need help you don't hesitate to give me a call. I'll help. If – If you don't want to call me then call Sam. Call one of us, you're one of us if you like it or not Cas so shut up and co-operate.” Dean almost choked on the sentiment found in his words. But what else could he say but the truth and it seemed to be the only way to reach the former angel who took the phone from his hand almost like the phone was made of glass. Dean gave him a charger as well, told him to keep the phone charged. And to not take candy from strangers or watch porn in a room with guys._

_Castiel was not amused to say the least. But he somehow knew Dean enough to read behind the words and accepted the sentiment more then the words that no doubt annoyed him._

Dean was well aware of the profound bond he held with Castiel. Sam at one time thought it was something more, when he was soulless he had the audacity to point that out. But the truth was, yes Dean toyed with the thought of loving the former angel. But Cas despite his mistakes felt too pure for Dean. Too good for him. Castiel was of Heaven and now of Earth. Dean, Dean wasn't sure what he was of. He knew he had Hell's touch on him and Earth and a small touch of Heaven when Dean was put back together.

A hunter's life required you to bend and twist and adapt. You didn't always have bars or woman around to satisfy you when a hand isn't enough.

The life of a hunter teaches you a lot of things. The life of a Winchester taught you even more.

It was what brought them this far and put them through so much. Azazel, the Apocalypse, the Leviathans and the trials. But it was what the Winchester belief of family before everything else that brought him here in the first place. It was luck that Dean found one out of the way and away from the Bunker.

A crossroad. Dean had everything he needed tucked away in a small tin box that Dean found on the side of the road. A picture of himself, dirt from a graveyard and bones of a rather unfortunate black cat he found dead on the side of the road. Stray possibly, but road kill all the same. Dean skinned it and took what he needed. It wasn't a pleasant thing to do but he's done worse, much worse so Dean went on autopilot as he took what he needed.

Thanking lack of need to pave back roads like this one Dean dug a hole in the centre of the crossroad. There was no devil trap to make sure the demon makes a deal with him like he did when Sam died. This time he would have to show that he's sincere in wanting to make a deal.

He wanted Sam to be on the fast track of getting better. Wanting to make sure that whatever got him sick won't drag his brother down to the dirt again. All of it would be for Sam because Sam was worth it one thousand times over.

All he had to do now was wait. It was ten minutes to twelve.

“Come on...” Dean ground out as he pulled his jacket closer to his body and waited. It was a bit cold out this night and he swore the atmosphere around had a negative feel to it. Dean expected that, this was a demon he was summoning. It didn't help that the general area in regards to the trees reminded him of Purgatory and it's bleak savage lifestyle.

He wondered how Benny was doing? If Benny cursed knowing Dean yet or if the vampire forgot that Dean existed at all. Dean hated to admit it, but he missed Benny. Benny was a friend. Benny was one of the few friends Dean has ever had that knows of Dean's job and didn't shy away or run as fast as he could to get away.

“This is a surprise. The Great Dean Winchester, come to make a deal? How's your brother?” A feminine voice, cold and cruel was heard from behind him. Dean wondered what it was about appearing behind a potential dealer? Maybe he'll ask Crowley but then the King of Hell would no doubt spend more time mocking Dean then helping or answering questions. He was still pretty stubborn and acting rather petty.

Crowley may have been let out of his cell but he wasn't all that free yet. There was bracelets on his wrists that Sam found and modified to keep the Demon on a short leash. It was easier to summon him back and he couldn't cause physical harm to specific names carved into them. Sam, Kevin and Dean being the three. There could only be three and since Castiel wasn't with them at the moment the choices were obvious.

Crowley hated it. Dean was okay with it. Sam was cautious and not comfortable with it. Kevin hated Crowley for obvious reasons, he steered clear of the demon.

Dean turned around and faced the demon, wearing a petite young blond haired girl. Jean jacket covering a white crisp shirt tucked into jeans. The image of the girl next door. Dean sneered at her, pitied the girl though. No person deserves to be worn as a meat suit by a demon.

“Sam's fine, you're here to keep it that way.” Dean snapped, he really didn't like the fact that she was speaking about Sam like she had the right to. In Dean's mind no demon had that right, if they thought they did then Dean would correct them without a second of hesitation. Sam was his little brother and his responsibility and no demon filth would be allowed the right.

Dean was aware that he might appear as a bit obsessed to others at this point, but Dean didn't think of it that way. He was just an older brother looking out for his little brother. Nothing more and nothing less then that.

“A deal for your brother, how cliche. What exactly do you want?” the demon said, amusement now clearly heard and she must be desperate to bag this deal. She was letting Dean lead the way, and that was just fine for Dean. It meant he had the chance to make sure this was done right. Dean will make sure of it.

“His health, his health has to be perfect for the rest of his life. I mean it, and he'd better have a long life.” Dean stated, making sure to take a way some of the loopholes as best that he could in his desperation. He didn't utter a threat though, the demon would have figured the threat out on its own and Dean needed to close this deal before making threats and warnings.

First things first.

“So let me get this straight, for the sake of a contract. You want me to make your baby brother healthy for a long life. In return you do what? And in return you give me your soul in about – lets say five years.” The demon stated, almost like she wanted to bring out a writing pad and start writing this down. Dean wanted to give her an are you insane look if not for the five year thing. He thought it was ten years?!

“Five years, it used to be ten...” Dean protested, he was always being screwed over in deals and things along that line. Everyone seemed to enjoy pulling that sort of stunt with Dean. He was getting sick of it and now he wanted answers.

“The queen needs to replenish her forces as quick as she can, so five years for now sweetheart. You either agree or I walk and baby brother gets sicker and sicker.” The demon explained and Dean had to stop a moment out figure out who the 'queen' was. It meant that Crowley might not be as useful as Dean thought. Either that or the King of Hell wasn't aware of the change in regimes, if it was a change at all. It could be possible that this demon was loyal to Abaddon?

His mind kept repeating the fact that it should be ten years, not five. But then again at least it wasn't one year. He had time to get his little brother on track to his normal life and figure out what's going on with Cas and the angels. He could work with five years. It wasn't ideal, but he'll work with it.

For Sam...

For Sam it was worth it.

“Well do you --” the demon started to say with a smirk playing on her face, unfortunately she didn't get to finish what she was saying when the tip of what appeared to be an angels killing blade poked through her shirt staining the white to a growing shade of red. Dean stared in disbelief. There goes the only chance he could get to make his brother better and now.

Who could have known that Dean was out here doing the very same thing that sent him to Hell in the first place and who killed the demon with an angels weapon.

His question was answered the second the body fell to the ground and there stood the King of Hell himself. Crowley. Dean's first thoughts were questioning why and how did Crowley get here and know what was going on. There was no question that Crowley disliked being at the bunker and practically loathed both Sam and himself, so then why did he just get Dean out of a deal before it was made.

Anger filled Dean. Now what will he do? His brother needed to get better and fast, Dean hated seeing him so weakened and tired. Dean felt helpless and this was the only idea he came up with that seemed semi-workable.

It took less then a second to realize that Crowley himself seemed to be angry and for that Dean didn't know why. Because of Dean maybe? Because of the demon now dead at their feet, because she was a crossroad trying to gain a contract while following under Abaddon's unofficial rule? Dean didn't know.

And Dean found himself just standing there, not his usual reaction but with how everything seemed to be sinking in lately and with Sam's health could you blame him? It was foolish and stupid and not the smartest decision. Crowley was the enemy, sure he may be tied to them for the moment but Dean has never met a situation so far that Crowley somehow escaped by chance or plan. Dean wanted to stop Crowley when he simply used a clean spot on the jacket worn by the demon who possessed the girl. Dean hoped it was quick for her and that she didn't see or know what was going on. If she could be granted that one mercy.

“Are you insane? Have you lost what's left of that mind of yours, out here making a deal that would cost you your soul in a five year contract?” Crowley snapped as he stepped over the body and towards Dean who stiffened as a response. How could he not stiffen, this was the King of Hell and that was no small feat.

Dean didn't bother answer anything he just asked, instead cut in with questions of his own. Sadly he didn't get to fully ask them because with a wave he was silenced. Not with abilities, it was the gesture and the look that must have had him close his mouth with an angry expression as his only form of protest at the moment.

“And to have your soul go to Abaddon of all things. Foolish, foolish boy.” Crowley snarled out, anger distorting the usual crisp and sarcastic tone to something with more growl in it. That was it then, that was the reason he was angry. It must be. Dean knew there wouldn't be another reason. He wasn't childish to kid himself or anything of that matter.

“What the fuck are you doing here Crowley?!” Dean finally forced out. He deserved to know beyond the fact that his soul would have belonged to Abaddon, was Crowley doing here killing a demon and stopping Dean from selling his soul. His soul which was his to decide what happens to it. So then what gave Crowley the right?

Unless he wanted to be the one to hold the deal himself? But then would that not go against the binds in the form of bracelets on both wrists of the demon in front of him?

“Obviously stopping you from brash decisions.” Crowley forced out as he walked past Dean, without missing a beat catching hold of Dean's arm and forcing Dean to follow. The buried box forgotten even as the contents burned with a single thought from Crowley. Dean found himself being dragged towards the Impala that was still running in an inviting manner.

Them going towards the Impala meant that Crowley wasn't here to make a deal. So then, what gives?

It was then he really took notice that he was just pushed into the passenger seat, his arm still hurting from a grip he didn't really realize that Crowley had when dragging him towards the Impala. He'll no doubt have bruises there later. Dean made sure his disagreement in being the one in the passenger seat was well known, and only got worse the second Crowley simply appeared in the driver seat before Dean could move over and steal it for himself.

Dean was on thin ice as it was, he knows this. But this car was his, this was something that he held dear because of what it was and who gave it to him and it has been home ever since he was taken from the Campbells house. They wanted Sam, but not Dean. Dean was silent and didn't say a word and that must have had them change their minds of him. Of course Samuel Campbell wasn't alive, but relatives were and they were the ones who Dean and his baby brother were left with.

His complaints no matter how vocal they were stopped at the glare and a harsh words that were obviously designed to do exactly that.

“After this stunt, I think it's best that you stay quiet. Lying to your brother about going out on a hunt and turn around and try to sell your soul. So your brother is sick you think it would be better to take the easy route out. I expect more from you Winchester.” Crowley sounded angry and dare he say disappointed as well. Dean wondered how it was possible to let down a demon who hated you and was your enemy. There was no making sense of it at times.

Anger was something Dean learnt to live with, he had to. Perhaps he didn't have the same explosive temper that Sam had, but Dean's was no less deadly. And right now he couldn't think of the last time he was so angry that he wanted to cause serious harm to anyone. But there he was in the passenger seat of his own car shaking in his own anger. His jaw felt so tight it hurt. Dean felt like he was going to explode. He didn't even take full notice of the curious expressions he actually gained from Crowley in between the demons own angered disposition.

Silence was kept up only until the door to the hotel room Dean rented before he found himself a crossroad to make the deal on. After it was shut and locked the yelling started. Lights flickered just to show that Crowley wasn't some person to have a yelling match not that it was and would ever be enough to force Dean to back down.

In the end Dean did back down, but not by choice. He was forced up against the wall and an arm against his throat silencing him. Other guests banged on the walls for them to shut up, Dean couldn't blame them but at the moment of anger he wanted to bang on the wall in return and tell them to mind their own business. However there was other things that required his attention. Things like a demon restraining him physically against a wall and the anger that was felt.

Crowley didn't see another point in speaking either obviously, instead they made eye contact for a moment when glaring each other down. They both seen something that was enough to settle things before it got worse and they both knew that it could. Dean was a hunter, Crowley was a demon. They both had respective skills to hurt and harm each other. Even kill.

But one could never tell them that they had no restraint after this point because both of them stood down well enough to go about doing their own thing in the same room. Crowley watched a documentary on Hitler while Dean tried to sleep. It wasn't a restful night to say the least. That very morning Dean had to check out with Crowley hanging over his shoulder, obviously not trusting him to not do something stupid. It was a mild shock that he simply allowed Dean to be the one to drive the Impala again. Something Dean was happy about, how could he not. This was his baby.

The drive back to the Bunker was a mixture of arguments and silence with one question plaguing Dean's mind.

Why did Crowley expect more from Dean? Surely he would have been happy to have a soul of his enemy destined for Hell? Crowley when and if he gets back complete control would own his soul as well as every other soul. So then why did this situation come to pass at all? Why didn't Crowley offer a better deal?

**= CROWLEY =**

When Crowley became a demon he started at the lowest rank that any demon could start with. It was the best way for Crowley to learn everything there was to know and Crowley was someone who thirsted for knowledge that could assist him, it set him apart from some of the other demons. Crowley worked the slums you could say, not allowed to go topside at the time but Crowley listened to stories of it while going unnoticed. It was working in that job that earned him the unwanted nickname 'Lucy the Leprechaun' because he managed to survive the dangers of that job. The Hellhounds which he did his best work in that area with. The Daeva's as well as surviving other demons who were within the same job area as he was.

There thoughts no doubt was based around the rumour of if you could kill another demon there you would be free to move up in the ranks. Azazel wasn't that generous, but he did let demons rise through the ranks when they showed their worth. Crowley was glad he was within Lilith's ranks. It fast tracked his rights to be a Crossroad Demon and in years to come the King of the Crossroad.

Then the Apocalypse which resulted in Crowley having to take a big risk and a gamble. He went against everything a demon was, turned his back on their God and sided with the enemy. Crowley will forever be the most buggered son in creation because Lucifer was still alive.

But his big risk came with a big reward and success. Crowley became the King of Hell and he had big plans, world changing plans. Well, Hell changing plans you could say but the world itself played a part. It was grand and beautiful and there was a perfect element that just sung to him. No one would ever expect a mere Crossroad Demon to take up the mantel and crown and become the King of Hell after it was left vacant and void when Lucifer was locked back in his box where he belonged.

Hell needed a proper leader. One that could take it to new heights and new glories. So Crowley became King and remodelled it and got ride of a few things but kept some elements behind doors that souls in the line up wouldn't be aware of until it was far too late. The Rack remained, but there was more VIP's on there rather then every soul. It left too much work to begin with, but then the Rack was ruled by someone who was a workaholic and liked the work load.

No when Crowley was King the only ones who was put on the Rack was your killers, soldiers doing the naughty behind turned backs, rapists and tyrants. Warlords were put there too. The A list you could say. Natural born demons you could say. Psychopaths, all of them. There wasn't many demons anymore who used to be Nazi's sadly especially the SS soldiers, now they were useful and vicious demons.

The next ones to be put on the Rack were your average killers, the accidental killings. Manslaughter, hit and run, careless mothers and so on. Con artists made wonderful crossroad demons in Crowley's experience. It worked well, better then before if you ask Crowley. The suicides Crowley didn't even bother with, they kept in the line up to be used as something else entirely.

Sadly other demons didn't see things his way, they didn't or wouldn't think outside the box. The foolish and stupid children were too set in their ways and there was a few he had to remind how good it was to be on the bottom. It taught Crowley why Lucifer hated his kind nearly if not as much as he hated humans. Not that it mattered in the end. All the same, the stupidity was enough to give Crowley a headache in just thinking about it.

Now if Crowley hoped for things to run like clock work, it didn't. There was a Civil War in Heaven, little Castiel was waging an all out verbal and posturing war against Raphael. Most likely trying to win angels over in seeing things his way. Free will for an entire race who didn't know how to clean there own ass without an order to do so. It was comical, up until he realized that Raphael wanted to start the Apocalypse again.

Crowley approached Castiel, put a thought in his mind with carefully placed words and comments.

But it worked, Castiel made a deal with him. Crowley was to loan him souls so he could make the first strike against Raphael and to be able to stand up against the Archangel and in return Castiel assisted Crowley in figuring out a rumour. The rumour of Purgatory. As soon as it was discovered to be a place then that was when the real fun started that eventually dragged in Samuel Campbell, a Soulless Sam and eventually Dean himself.

It ended in a mess however. Crowley was furious about that. Castiel with his newly born God complex betrayed him, and you don't go doing that on a deal. Yes find loopholes but don't go out and full out betray and fail to go through with your deal. Crowley took a gamble and let the Winchester's deal with that and played ball when the Wannabe God ordered him to be the New Devil like he wasn't already that.

But to say that he would shrink Hell was a line that you do not cross. Hell was Crowley's. Crowley bid his time to pay the angel back. But when he saw how insane the angel was, Crowley had to back off a bit and again wait until the time he could pay the angel back.

Being that the Winchester's had everything they needed to defeat the new problem that cropped up after the Civil war and Castiel in his Wannabe God complex was the Leviathans. They came about when Castiel swallowed the souls and failed to put all of them back in Purgatory. Crowley will admit that perhaps a part of the mess was his to begin with. But with the Winchester's having the Prophet and the way to kill them, he left the mess to them.

They had what it took to do the job, Crowley will admit that. However as revenge against Castiel mostly, he failed to tell them about the side effects of what would happen when they kill Dick Roman. Castiel was more of a target then Dean was, sure they were enemies but Dean was the lesser threat at the moment because he was so distracted with the Leviathan's and his own loss, a broken Sam and dealing with the angel that Crowley didn't have to worry so much.

Crowley was well aware that both Castiel and Dean were sent to Purgatory and that they were there for a year, Castiel a little longer but sadly the angel was rescued. During that year Crowley was free to expand his reach to the point he even got angels in his employment. But they were put aside so he could use them at the right moment, but for that moment he focused on one simple thing. The Word of God that spoke of Hell and of Demons. His interest was peaked back when the Leviathan's were making a mess of things. But then it was the Word of God for Leviathans, it was enough to get Crowley thinking. What if there was one for other things like demons or vampires or even angels?

Once he found the Word of God for demons he instantly took hold of it and used the Prophet he took as his own to learn more about his own kind and Hell. He learnt that the doors could be opened. So it this became the obvious route to what he was going to do next. He was going to open the Gates of Hell and take over Earth because there was just so much things he could use there to expand and strengthen his hold of Hell and his power.

But Kevin managed to escape and for most of that year the little brat managed to stay hidden until he had the misfortune of being found and in the presence of the Winchesters. The knowledge that not only does the Word of God open the doors but they could close the gates as well. That left one conclusion for Crowley, he had to crush them and from there it was a big game of psychological warfare and trying to kill each other off. This was one fight he was slowly losing though, and that enraged Crowley beyond belief.

The first Trial was to kill a hellhound. Crowley was thankful that it wasn't his favourite hound, Crowley was a bit possessive of his pups. Still there was no doubt it was an impressive feat for the youngest Winchester who was burdened with baring the trials. Attacking Sam directly would be foolish, but attacking him emotionally would mean he would have to endure and Dean would be powerless to stop it.

The second Trial was to save a soul from Hell. Sam managed the feat surprisingly easy and Crowley loathed that for one simple reason. It shouldn't have been that easy, for one thing Hell wasn't always corporal and it wasn't always the same as you leave it. It's forever changing. But Sam managed it and managed to steal Bobby who was lucky to not be put on the Rack but was tormented efficiently to draw everything out well enough. Crowley tried to stop the soul from reaching Heaven, but failed.

Two trials down and then that brought him to the third and final.

Curing a demon, and not just any demon. Crowley himself. Crowley tried so very hard to fight it every time that syringe entered his neck Crowley fought it and felt violated by the younger Winchester. He let his displeasure be known. But there was only so much fighting you could do before you had to succumb to what was happening. What you were feeling. Crowley had the unmistakeable taste of humanity tainting him.

Everything Crowley has ever felt was face to face with him and he hated it. Loathed it more then anything. Crowley wasn't a stranger to his own humanity but as a demon he was particularly numbed to it. It was there in memory but nothing more then memory. Not long after that Crowley was opening up, or starting to. Talking and confessing and asking Sam how to make amends.

Did he even mean that garbage? Him, the King of Hell wanting to redeem himself somehow and asking where to start! It was outrageous. Yet it happened and from there things just got emotional and Crowley was faced with memories that had emotions attached to them coming back as a slaps in the face. Sam had his own emotional drama to face, Dean was there for him though. Crowley was left chained in the chair and eventually betrayed and crossed by Abaddon who now sought to rule Hell as it's new Queen. Crowley was the King and if there would be a Queen then Crowley hated to admit it but he could only picture Lilith as such.

Granted Crowley might have been saved from her, but the angels fell from Heaven and Crowley once thought he would have been glad to see such a sight. But he didn't see it let alone feel glad. In fact the sounds were threatening and there was an unmistakeable chill in the air that left you cold. Balance was knocked off it's head.

And Crowley, well he was shoved in a trunk before finding himself in a Cell at a bunker of sort. Crowley didn't even know if it was underground or not. There was no window where he was being held. Held to be alone with his thoughts. With his memories and he was more or less alone. Crowley could tell there was someone else there, but beyond that the person didn't come close to the cell. Must not know Crowley was there or following orders of do not approach at all costs.

If there was one thing Crowley hated was being stuck with his own memories, demons never liked it and for good reasons. Crowley had to remember who he used to be before he was a demon.

Crowley could remember certain dates for certain events that stuck out in his mind that made Fergus Roderick McLeod who he was. Events that led Fergus to his end even though he didn't know it at the time.

There was the time in 1646, he was only a boy at the age of fourteen. When he was Fergus he lived with his mother then, it was only them. It was always only them. Crowley remembered he got into fights a lot and he couldn't tell you how many times he came home with bloodied noses because another boy his age would call his mother names like whore and witch and no good. Crowley remembered that even though he was generally a kind if not an unfortunate man he had a temper. She never liked to see him with bloodied noses though.

By time 1649 came around, there was a lot of things that changed. Crowley remembered that at that time he was now fully aware that his mother was a witch and that the other boys were right. Not that it mattered, he didn't blame her or doubt her. Instead the young man Fergus learnt how to do the same magic in hopes to understand it and in hopes to save her.

Which failed because in 1656 he had to watch her burn at the stake for being a witch, Fergus had to slip away from his wife to manage such a stunt. Crowley would be disgusted with himself if he had to watch who he was at the time hold his mouth to stop himself from screaming and pleading the executioner to not set her on fire. Even as the fire took her and the sense of failure choked Fergus, his mouth was held. Fergus failed and he cursed the church for not giving him enough time to save her.

Fergus Roderick McLeod tried to be the good son. He failed.

In the year 1651 Crowley remembered getting married, it was an arrange marriage as a way to settle a debt. They didn't produce until 1656 and it was a boy and Crowley remembered when he was Fergus he was so happy and proud of the little vermin in his arms. There was so many foolish possibilities that had Crowley gagging. Fergus was considered to be a whipped dog by other men, and because of how he behaved towards her and at times others it was believed that he cheated. It was a small village so it was a shock that the gossip stuck around and stuck to Fergus.

But he didn't cheat because as much as Crowley hated it, Fergus tried to be the good husband and failed at it miserably.

The year 1660 would be the year that changed everything in Fergus's life in a way that having a wife and son couldn't. That was the year his son died, drowned in a small pond because he wandered off and wanted to play with the older boys. Fergus was filled with a rage like never before, the Scotsman attacked the boys verbally. A few of his fellow workers followed and stayed between Fergus and the boys, whispering always whispering. Be careful of Fergus McLeod, he's the son of a witch. Do not provoke him. Crowley remembered that those were common whispers behind his back. Not even two years before that his wife left him, now Fergus's boy was dead. He lost everything and refused to admit it. So Fergus went to the local herb woman. She was a bit odd those days, odder then she used to be. But she helped Fergus. Only now Crowley truly understood her to be a crossroad demon.

Fergus Roderick McLeod sold his soul for a son who will grow to hate him and think negative thoughts of him. Fergus only got a year to live. Like Dean ironically enough.

In the year 1661 Fergus was arrested and interrogated for information because of rumours and the faces he saw were new, they weren't from around here. They found out what they wanted and filled in the blanks. Fergus was led out to the stake, like his mother was. There was faces in the crowd as well that Fergus didn't recognize. At the start he tried not to beg but he did. Fergus pleaded and some in the crowd had the audacity to laugh. So there was one last thing he could do at this point. Fergus cursed the entire village, everyone except for his son. But everyone else, newcomers and old recognizable faces were cursed. It was a simple curse, he wanted them sick and dead or dying. He just wanted something horrible to happen to them.

The history books would show that he was successful in some regards but it was hard to find because documentation wasn't as thorough as it was today and even if it was most of it was burnt and deteriorated with time.

Fergus failed at everything. To be a good son, a good husband and a good father. He was a failure of a human. But as Crowley, as himself he wasn't a failure.

All in all, Crowley was left with his memories for a good week before the sound of others entering the bunker, Crowley had very good hearing. He recognized the voices as Sam and Dean Winchester, the third he realized was Kevin Tran. A chuckle was the only thing Crowley could let himself do at the moment. Crowley was still trapped within the devil's trap and he still had no way to escape. But that never stopped Crowley from taking hold of the situation in any way that he could.

Kevin was angry when he found out that Crowley was still alive. Even asked the boys why they didn't stab Crowley yet. Kevin even had the audacity to enter his cell with a sledgehammer and a knife. The boy wanted to try his hand in either torture or amateurish beating. Crowley mocked him, used his words because that's all that he was left with. The boy had brass though, Crowley felt his meat suits arm break under the force of the sledgehammer. Crowley didn't give the boy what he wanted though, Crowley didn't let pain show. Instead he pulled a trick out of the former and late Grand Torturer's book and twisted the situation around on Kevin by taunting him and ignoring what was being done in between giving helpful tips.

It was a good way to mess someone up.

Crowley had the boy crying in sorrow and rage as he lashed out at Crowley. It took both Winchester's to pull Kevin away from Crowley before the boy broke down completely.

Crowley could hear them outside, trying to counsel Kevin, to calm him down.

“He killed them! My Mother! My Girlfriend! I... He killed them... Why is he still a-alive! It's not fair!” Crowley could hear the distraught voice of Kevin, struggling against someone who was no doubt Dean because he was the healthier one. Crowley would have chuckled or smiled if not remembering Fergus's own distress and hurt. Crowley pushed it back though, irrelevant and to be ignored.

Crowley instead focused on his own injuries. Broken arm. Broken hand with fingers pointing in wrong directions and covered with blood from broken skin. Five broken ribs and one collar bone broken. Both legs and one knee cap. His jaw might be fractured. Crowley had to focus more then he would have liked to heal things. His jaw bone first. He had to be able to talk. Everything else could come later. Crowley has long since learnt that his ability to say the right thing could save his life.

Dean and Sam left him there, made comments on how he looked and left him there. Which was fine, Crowley wanted to be alone and heal. But he was also alone with his thoughts and he could do nothing but think and heal and curse his failing luck. After so many years of being lucky it has to run out at the worst time.

“Bullocks...” Crowley muttered to himself, seamlessly keeping with the accent that he most enjoyed.

It took a week for him to be fully healed, dirty and Crowley hated the scent of his lack of hygiene cleanliness. But he wasn't given much choice as he was chained in one position for more then two weeks now. He was lucky that he didn't have to eat or drink. Though water was brought in by Dean usually and sometimes something a bit better then just water. Sam was ill no doubt, Kevin was livid so that only left Dean.

Within that week of water visits from Dean Crowley did start up conversations. Small and innocent ones. At first Dean didn't bite, but eventually they had short conversations that really consisted of grunts or clipped answers from Dean. Though there was moments Crowley actually got full sentences. It was in those innocent conversations Crowley figured there was something Dean was feeling guilty about in regards to Sam and his sudden surviving the failure of closing the gates of Hell. It was something Crowley would have to think over and decide what he wants to do with that sort of information. It was also within those conversations that he learnt that he was mistaken on how many people were here, Castiel was here but left not too long after his arrival.

The next visit from Dean after that week wasn't with a bottle of water or cheap whiskey. It was with two flat bracelets that had inscriptions on them that Crowley didn't trust. He spotted names, three of them. All known to him. Crowley threatened Dean and warned him to not put those on him. Dean of course like the moron he was, didn't listen. What was it with disobedience these days?

As far as Crowley could see at the moment, the only upside to those spell ridden bracelets was that he could leave the cell and go where he wants within the bunker so long as he avoids any sort of warding that was present in the old Men of Letters bunker. He wasn't allowed to go near Kevin. The downside to the bracelets was that he couldn't leave the bunker unless one of the three were already outside, location not important so long as they were outside then Crowley could leave the bunker.

And it wasn't often because Dean was babying his little brother who was still sicker then a dog and Kevin couldn't because of how important he was. Crowley tried to figure out how long Castiel was there but Dean told him bluntly to shut up and mind his own business on the matter. Crowley of course mocked him and got shot for it.

Crowley did have to admit that it was nice to have a shower again, he liked the little things more then people gave him credit for. Though he found himself missing his own shower back in one of his hide outs. Crowley used his abilities to repair and clean his suit, he wasn't about to wear anything found in this place. His standards were higher then hand me down's.

The mood without him in the room was almost good, almost joking and sometimes somber. The joking sometimes was false and not as funny as they wanted it to be. But everyone was trying to get back to normal. But when Crowley happened to be in the same room by chance or near, it was quiet and he could feel their eyes on him. It made his skin crawl in disgust and anger. He could do nothing more then walk out of the room before he could picture them bloodied and broken and decorating the walls in intricate designs with external and internal bits.

The bracelets wouldn't let him but a demon could dream.

Eventually Crowley did manage to have a few conversations with Sam who was trying to gauge where Crowley stood since the church. Crowley shot him down many times, denied and refused to even consider the things that was said in the church. The youngest Winchester was a bleeding heart. Crowley wasn't interested in redemption or sappy conversations. So Sam didn't bring anything like that up after it was clear to him. Idle, passionless conversation that was pointless and only there because there was nothing better to do.

Crowley even kept up conversations with Dean that started while Crowley was bound in the cell that he still used as his own room. It was his at this point, he just scrubbed the devil traps clean and made it easily accessible to him.

Don't get Crowley wrong, he didn't care about them and he didn't need them. He was trapped there and he was just trying to make the best of an unfortunate and unasked for situation. And that made the fact that he just stopped Dean from making a deal all that more curious.

Why did he do it? What was the point anyway?

Those were the only questions he could come up with as he sat in the passenger seat of a car he could care less about as it stopped in front of his prison.


	2. Consequences and Decisions

Dean wasn't the type of guy who liked to be the centre of attention when things were too close to home. When they were too serious and too real to be anything but the bitter and horrible truth. Life has taught Dean that situations where you were faced with all of this, is never good and could go disastrously wrong. But there was no getting around it and no denying what has happened and what Dean nearly did. Dean could only imagine the thoughts and memories that his nearly made deal has brought up.

At the moment, that was his only regret.

They were sitting in the library, the table was big enough for all of them to sit in comfort with a lot of space between all of them. The only ones present in the room was Sam, Kevin and himself. Dean was thankful for that, he didn't know what he would do if he was faced with one more person's attention. It wouldn't end well for anyone, Dean was a Winchester and he had all the baggage that comes with that name and it would no doubt come out to play here.

Sam sat across from him, pale and tired looking still. It was obvious that he was still sick but at least now he was managing pretty good. Well as good as he could. If Dean managed to make that deal, Sam would have been a hundred percent healthy now and for the rest of his life. But he couldn't. He didn't because Crowley stopped him. If Dean tried to make another deal, there wasn't a guarantee that they'd come. Word would spread fast. There was disappointment, hurt and anger clearly seen in Sam's face and body language. Dean could read his brother far better then other people can. Dean practically raised Sam, so there was no one who could read Sam better then he could. Being that he knew what Sam was feeling, it hurt worse and Dean would rather be shot or stabbed or anything but see it.

“Sam.” Dean started, tried to start anyway. He would explain himself but not apologize because Dean believes himself to be right in a wrong sort of way. But Sam shook his head, he didn't want to hear it yet. No doubt trying to put his thoughts in order well enough to be able to have a semi-civil conversation as reasonable as Sam could. Sam was always like that though. His Sam anyway. Sam was no doubt trying to digest and dissect what he found out not even ten minutes ago from Crowley of all people. Crowley ratted him out as he dragged Dean past Sam and into the bunker.

Which led to Dean sitting here.

Beside Sam sat Kevin, who invited himself in and seemed uncomfortable because he was no doubt going to catch sight of situations between Sam and Dean that not many could and was permitted to seeing. Kevin was only allowed to stay though because they were trying to keep him and Crowley separate. Keep the peace as best that they could. It wasn't much, but it was the least that they could do for a kid who lost a lot already. Dean understood what it meant and how it felt to lose everything and be forced to grasp at straws until he could find something solid.

Kevin didn't understand the full story of the situation, he was coming in years after the fact. But he'll learn if he sticks around for the complete conversation he'll learn about Dean selling his soul. About Dean being killed by a Hellhound and what it was like for both brothers. Sam having to hear and see Dean die and Dean having to hear his beg and plead in a voice Dean has never heard before and never wants to hear again. And then Kevin will have to understand that Dean was going to do it again.

“How could you – why would you even try to do this?” Sam finally said, despite how he must have been trying to collect himself and get himself together for this conversation the hurt and pain was coming through and Dean had to fight off a flinch. He couldn't show that sort of weakness here. He just couldn't. Sam was his little brother and from the day Dean's little brother was put in his arms as their life burned away it became Dean's job to look after him and be strong and not break or cave in.

So naturally Dean didn't say a word and watched as the hurt melted away to anger. Then again Sam was like that, he could change his mood on a drop of a dim sometimes. It comes with being a Winchester.

“Don't you have any idea what that means? What it would have done! How could you even consider doing this to me!” Sam said, his anger clearly heard in his voice and was enough to make Kevin uncomfortable in his seat. Dean watched with impassive eyes as Kevin put some space between himself and Sam. But not moving away enough to actually make a move to leave. Curiosity keeping him in place no doubt. Either that or not wanting to run into the demon he hates.

Dean remembered a time when Bobby wanted answers as well. Dean only had one thing to say as broken as it was.

_“I couldn't let him die, Bobby. I couldn't, he's my brother.”_

“I was doing it for you Sam! You're sick, I don't know how to make you better!” Dean snapped back desperation mixed with his own brand of anger. Anger that was directed at the situation instead of Sam. Dean needed Sam to see that what he was doing, what he was willing to do for Sam. Sam was everything to Dean and he could faintly understand why people got the wrong idea about them. But they didn't see the world that Dean see's and knows and feels almost comfortable in.

He could almost hear something Bobby once told him.

_“What? And it didn't before?! Have you got that low of an opinion of yourself? Are you that screwed in the head?!”_

Dean hated the fact that it was probably completely true. Dean never really did have a high opinion of himself. It was normal for him to sacrifice himself for everyone else. Especially for Sam because Sam was worth it and if people didn't agree then Dean was either through with them or they would have to deal with a pissed off older brother. Dean wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice his childhood. His soul. His normal life. His existence. Dean could give it all up for Sam. To Dean, this was okay. This was normal. He was raised to be ready to lay his life and soul down if it was what was required because it was worth it.

“And that made it okay to sell your soul? Don't you remember what we went through when you first sold your soul?” Sam practically yelled, anger no doubt taking over and Dean halfheartedly watched as Sam's hands tightened in fists to correspond with his anger. Dean knew how those fists felt when being punched, sometimes they came to physical blows. Dean remembered he barely fought back as he would have if anyone else punched him. He didn't want to hurt Sam.

“I know, I remember. I was there, remember.” Dean said, and yes he did remember. He'll never forget the helplessness he felt. The fear and the pain and what he was forced to hear before white light took over and he woke up in Hell in one piece and then having to go through so much. So much pain, so much suffering and introducing Dean to darker parts of himself he didn't want to know existed. Dean shuddered at the thought.

“Then why?! Why would you do this to me?!” Sam demanded, anger taking a back seat to other emotions. Not really safer emotions either, all of them felt like they were cutting into Dean. This was his fault, he knows it but it didn't mean he liked it. Sam's hands were still held in fists.

“Sam...” Dean tried but he knows until Sam was satisfied then Dean wasn't going to be able to say as much as he would have liked and have Sam accept it. Sam was pushy like that though. And sometimes Dean was relieved that he was.

“How long would they have given you?” Sam asked, pain clearly heard and Dean would take a punch instead. But he didn't voice that or show it. He couldn't It was weak and Dean couldn't be weak. Not right now, not ever.

“Five years.” Dean answered, a simple two worded answer that had too much weight on them as it was. Five years to live. Five years to have his soul. Five years of dealing with a prolonged and unavoidable death. If he had gone through with it, if he was allowed to go through with it.

“So long.” Sam was being sarcastic now, bitter and hurt. Dean was forced to face the fact that it would kill his brother to know and wait those five years.

“Sam, I didn't go through with it -” Dean tried and for the first in the past few minutes remembered that Kevin was sitting there looking between them in a rather uncomfortable expression. The kid knows full well that he has stumbled into something painfully personal between them. With the quick glances to the door Kevin no doubt was debating on whether or not he should leave the room.

“Because Crowley killed it and dragged you back here! But you would have gone through with it!” Sam snapped, anger back in full. Dean fought down his own anger. He remembers that Crowley killed his chance to save Sam from his sickness. And the conversation was lasting long enough for Dean to react in anger and probably make things worse.

In the back of his mind he did wonder if there was better options to use then what he did use in regards to getting Sam up and living in the hospital. Dean only halfheartedly wondered what would have happened if he did send out a message through prayer. But he didn't and now this was his situation. Dean will make the best of what he has, like always.

“You were sick.” Dean tried to reason, it was better then to just snap and do something he would regret later on. It was something he was actually trying to not do. The doctor said that Sam should spend his time resting and not doing anything that could stress him out. And yet here Dean destroyed that, it was something he was oddly good at and Dean hated that.

“So! That doesn't give you the right to sell your-” Sam practically snarled, angry and feeling self-righteous right about now and Dean had enough of it. He himself stood up to attempt to tower over a sitting Sam who only responded in kind. Sam was bigger then Dean so any attempt to tower over him, bully him with height went out the door. It didn't make Dean back off though.

“It's my soul to do with what I want with it!” Dean without putting much thought in what he said. But it was true, his soul was his own to do with as he chooses. But whether or not he was right was another question altogether. Unfortunately Sam was someone who wore his heart on his sleeve sometimes and Dean could always see the change and emotions that respond to what's been said and done.

It only made Dean wished he could take that back. Sam looked like he was physically struck. Dean broke eye contact finding the wall suddenly very interesting as he sat back down and fidgeted in his spot as Sam followed his example and sat down as well. Dean felt like he would be sick with the guilt he was feeling. He wished he could take what he just said back!

“I couldn't see you sick anymore Sam, after watching you deteriorate in the trials. And to see that you aren't getting better I was afraid that – that you would be back in the hospital deteriorating. I had to do something... I didn't know what else to do and I've long since learnt that angels aren't helpful.” Dean finally said as a peace offering, it wasn't a great one but it was all that Dean could give at the moment. He did promise to be honest, even though this situation was brought on by a lie. Dean did make it sound like he was going out for a hunt. Made it sound like it would be a quick and easy one.

“So a crossroad demon is better?” Sam asked, tired and hurt and at least his fists were relaxed enough that they were put back on Sam's lap. Dean shrugged at first as an answer. But words were needed even though Dean didn't want to say any more words.

“No but... But I don't know Sam I felt trapped and out of options...” Dean said, it wasn't much of an answer but it was the truth and he hoped that the fact that it was the truth would make it enough. Sam still looked disappointed when Dean finally looked back at him. Eventually Dean managed bring up what the crossroad demon said, change the direction of the attention to the matter at hand rather then the fact that Dean nearly sold his soul again. The news about Abaddon.

But there was a new but too familiar tension between them now and Dean hated it, he wanted to get drunk and numb it even though this was his fault. Dean couldn't count how many times now that he turned to alcohol to make things numb even for a moment. The pain. The guilt. What he knows. What he's seen and done and had done to him. But it wasn't the answer. Alcohol was never the answer but for someone like Dean, what else was there to turn to.

“Dean...” Sam said, Dean knows his brother must have sensed Dean's turbulent mind and emotions. Sam sent Kevin away in order to get privacy. Dean wished that Kevin left sooner, he has seen and now knows more then he should. More then what he had right to. As soon as Kevin was out of hearing range, Sam moved so he was on the same side of Dean and sat beside him. Dean heard his name again.

“It's fine Sam... I'll fix this, it's fine.” Dean said as he sat up straight and he felt how tense he was and Dean was aware that he must have looked just as rigid as he was tense. He could feel his brother's eyes on him. Worried, hurt and sad. They both have been through so much. They both have suffered so much and so badly. They both have seen more then what the blissfully ignorant has had to and Dean hoped that they would never have to see.

Dean stiffened when Sam put his hand on his shoulder, it wasn't intended but it was enough to have Sam almost pull away and Dean almost mourned for the near loss of contact. In the back of his mind though he kept telling himself to man up, to shove all this behind him because what else was there to do. He had a problem he had to fix and he couldn't sit here and wallow in his own problems. Sam needed him to be strong. Sam needed someone to look out for him.

“We will fix this.” Sam corrected and Dean had the sudden realization that he was trapped in chick flick moment with his brother and he cursed his own emotions and the fact that they seemed to come up so much that they bled through the wall and masks he prefers to keep up. Dean wasn't the type of guy who liked to show what he really was feeling. He wasn't your emotional let's talk about our feelings sort of person. It made him too vulnerable.

Dean didn't even know what to say to that. It was obvious that he and his brother were on good terms more or less, better then they have been in years. Since the years Dean has mourned because they were so simple back then and there wasn't half as much tension or animosity between them concerning things. Dean wanted to take hold of the faint hope that those days might be back one day and hold on for life.

Good terms or not, Dean wanted to refuse to accept the 'we' part of what Sam said. Sam was trying as hard as he could, harder then Dean was. So Sam didn't have to do anymore then what he's done. It was on Dean now. He had to keep that in mind and he had to get his shit together here and now.

With a curse directed inward at his nonstop emotion problem Dean shifted and rubbed his face. He gave a nod to his brother, it was the best that he could give him though it was directly opposite to how he felt. But it'll do for now. Dean felt the hand on his shoulder tighten before letting go, Dean's nod was enough. For now, Dean knows his little brother would want words later. But for now it was all that Dean could give.

And with that done it was back to business. And Dean was grateful.

Kevin was allowed to come back in, he wasn't entirely too fond of being kept out of the loop but with a look from both brothers, he decided to take the smart route and kept that to himself. Kevin said he had nearly all of the Demon tablet translated and put into a hard covered book. It was going to be apart of the library and the Word of God would be buried somewhere within the Bunker where no demon can get a hold of it. And that included Crowley who was to be kept out of the loop. The book wouldn't be able to be touched by demons thanks to both visible and invisible ink used to draw on sigils to keep demons out.

With that taken care of, they had the Word of God for the angels to worry about and use somehow to open the door forcefully and hopefully restore Castiel's grace so he could defend himself far more efficiently then he can as a human. Which had Dean worried ever since he reluctantly let Castiel leave. He made sure that Castiel knew how to shoot straight and efficiently.

There was also the problem with Abaddon trying to take over Hell. And with Crowley out of the picture, it won't be too hard for her and that was the problem. They had to take her out somehow. But that would mean another demon would take her place and who knew what would happen then. And being that she was a Knight of Hell, she was tough.

“So how do we kill someone who's near impossible to kill?” Kevin ended up asking and that was a good question. There was a few options that might work. They could do what they already did, lock her in her meat suite and sever the head. Or they could find another way to bind her and take her out of the picture until they know how to kill her. Either way, it won't be easy. They didn't even know how to summon her like they could other demons.

How they wished they had the colt. Though whether or not the gun could actually kill her was another matter altogether, they didn't know. But in theory it should be able to, Abaddon is a demon after all.

Sam was put on research even before this little meeting was done and was told that he wasn't going to be put in danger's way. That would be Dean's job to go into dangerous situations and do what needs to be done. It was something Sam expected but didn't like because he didn't want to be out of the fight. Dean could understand, he was right where Sam was during the trials. Dean had to do this right though, he couldn't have his stubborn little brother doing something foolish.

“I need you here, safe. Someone's got to watch the kid too.” Dean said and cursed the emotional aspect that could be found in his words. But sometimes it was the emotional stuff that got Sam co-operating a bit easier then orders. It was how Dean managed to keep the peace when it was them and their Dad. Not that the peace would last long though.

“I can watch over myself, I did for six months.” Kevin said, and it was true. He did manage to hide out for six months and not to mention other times when he was on his own Kevin did almost okay. But the kid did get caught by Crowley while on Garth's boat.

“Ya well you're now with us so shut up and don't argue.” Dean snapped, Kevin really had to watch himself. Dean saw the guilt on his brother's face, Sam felt bad for that whole year despite how happy he might have been with Amelia. Dean was trying not to bring that year up and hold it over Sam despite the fact that even to this day Dean felt a bit betrayed that he was left to rot when he was still alive in Purgatory.

Kevin did try to fight back but Dean kept levelling him with a look that warned him that if he pushed back one more time Dean wouldn't be responsible for his own actions. Kevin smartly kept quiet after that. The conversation went back to how and what to use against Abaddon. Since they didn't have the colt, they brought up the fact that they needed a gun or something that could pack the killing ability that the colt did.

“Crowley.” Sam said out of the blue, mind no doubt working a mile a minute. Dean was confused though, why would the demon be brought up? What did he have to do with this conversation aside from what to do with him. But that comes later, they had Abaddon to work with.

Unless...

“Castiel said that Crowley shot him with a gun that had bullets that were melted down from an angel killing blade. Maybe he could make something that could kill demons.” Sam clarified and Dean instantly had the thought 'knew it' in his mind though he kept silent. Sam did make a good point though. Crowley did say he was a tinkerer here and there and he did seem to have some knowledge on weapons and who says that he wouldn't have possession of something like that. He did have the colt anyway.

Kevin made his displeasure known about that. They all knew what his feelings were in regards to the King of Hell. Both Winchester's could understand where Kevin was coming from, Kevin wasn't the first to lose nearly if not everything to one demon and want revenge. Both Sam and Dean lost their mother to Azazel and Sam lost his girlfriend to Azazel. So they could understand how Crowley was now Kevin's Azazel in a sense.

Dean was fully aware of how hypocritical it was to not allow Kevin to go down that path when Dean watched how he and his family allowed each other to go down that path of revenge. But Kevin was young and there was time for him to not make the same mistakes and have the stain on him that Dean knows his family has on them. On himself. Kevin didn't seem to understand Dean's reasoning for it though and fought.

“He killed them! Why, why is he still alive? If it was anyo-” Kevin forced out, anger clearly seen on his face making him appear older then he was. Stress and pain ageing the boy quickly. It wasn't anything new for Dean and he knows it's the same for Sam.

“Hold up! Don't you pull that shit Kevin. Ya I get that you want him dead, that you want revenge. But don't you even pull a stunt that turns the situation on me or Sam. We've been there, we've chased demons for revenge. We chased monsters for revenge. Our Dad did the same, and it dragged us all down that dark and bloody path. And nothing – Nothing good comes from it you hear me!” Dean snarled and ignored how Sam's eyes were on him again. It was almost like Sam was seeing him in another light, and Dean didn't know if that was a good thing or not. He'll have to deal with it later though. Right now there was other things to worry about.

“It's not fair though! I don't have anything left now, I can't go back to my old life. I can't finish collage. My girlfriend won't ever get to live long enough to get married or have kids. My mother won't ever have or see grandchildren or live comfortably for the rest of her life. They're both dead! They're not coming back! All because of him!” Kevin yelled back, angry tears starting to form. Dean knows that Kevin hasn't handled his problems. He was taking a page out of the old Winchester book of issues on that part. And in truth, what could Dean say about that. What could he say to Kevin to make it okay or at least livable.

“You're right, they're not coming back. They'll never be back. But you're still alive, Dean's trying to warn you off in making the same mistake that dragged Dean and I down this path. We can never go back, never have that apple pie life again. But you still have a shot at it, we just have to put things back together. Put the angels back in Heaven, take out Abaddon and hopefully get Hell to back off as well. Then we can make sure you can have the life we can't.” Sam said and Dean felt himself wince a few times throughout that sentence. He so badly wished that Sam could have that apple pie life. Dean now knows that the hunting life was for him, he has seen why it was important when in Purgatory. But Sam was tired of life, tired of hunting and of everything. He deserved to rest. Dean knows this and hoped and almost prayed that one day Sam could have that apple pie life too.

Dean could tell that the meeting or whatever this was, was officially over. Sam went back to bed due to being stressed and tired and Kevin went off to sulk somewhere. Dean stayed in the library with the bitter taste of how broken everyone truly was.

He wished he had something to drink right about now.

Who would have thought that the backlash for him trying to sell his soul would lead to uncomfortable conversations and arguments that Dean never planned on happening in the first place. But then when did anything go as planned?

**= Crowley =**

Crowley was alone in his cell that doubled as his own personal quarters listening into a most heartfelt conversation that would have made Crowley sick with disgust if he wasn't so busy trying to figure things out for himself. Why he made the decision to save Dean Winchester from selling his soul with a kiss in exchange for his brother's health and five measly years? Why he made the choice to bring the Eldest Winchester back to the Bunker that acted as Crowley's prison? Why he was so foolish to do all of the above.

None were easy answers for him to answer. If you asked Crowley how to make a deal, how to sell something that was utter garbage and make it sound like the greatest thing on Earth he would be able to tell you in easy to do steps. If you asked Crowley how and why he became the King of Hell, he would be able to give you a full description of how and why he did it and Crowley would add in the bonus of detailed descriptions of what he did with that sort of power.

Those were easy for him to answer and to figure out why.

But to figure out why he came back here willingly was something he didn't know. There was nothing for him here but captivity. Nothing for him to do but wander the halls and enter rooms that he could, all the while stuck with his own thoughts and scattered conversations with one of the Winchester boys, mostly Dean. And that wasn't much, less then what he had so many years ago. At least then he could fake it. Here not so much, and now even less. It was almost depressing but mostly frustrating and enough to drive Crowley to anger. And despite his controlled appearance, he did have a temper.

Crowley didn't even have a plot or scheme in his mind at the moment that could explain why he came back here. But give him time, Crowley can take this situation and turn it around to his benefit. If there was one thing he excelled at it was getting the best out of situations. He was a survivalist and his own life was top priority.

Perhaps that was why he stuck his neck out for Dean Winchester, saved him from making a deal that would have his soul belong to a Knight of Hell who was now a major case of annoyance and a thorn in Crowley's side. It was a plausible reason, Dean would owe Crowley one out of gratefulness because if anyone knows what the Pit was like it was those who graced that horrid place. Crowley knows first hand and he was well aware that Dean knows first place as well. Been both the tortured and the torturer. Crowley's path led in a different direction obviously, but that was thoughts for another day. Sam knew what the cage was like but not the Pit. Crowley won't say it's worse or not as bad, Hell was Hell there was no question about it and the boy suffered greatly. Crowley knows this because when he ventured close to the cage, he heard the boy screaming.

_Closing his eyes he could hear those same screams today, it was almost music._

_“Dean! Dean please! Please help me! Please I made a mistake, I can't be here! I can't take it!”_

_“Dean why, why won't you listen to me! I'm right here, right here Dean! Please!”_

_“Stop! Stop, just stop h-hurting me!”_

If Crowley was anyone else he would have felt horrible and guilty and disgusted with what he was listening to at the time. Instead he took another sip of his drink and carried on. Let the soulless shell of the same boy wander around doing whatever it was the shell wanted to do. Crowley didn't care, he had other things to do and worry about and aim for.

Pointless dreams now. Pointless goals that caused more of a mess then anything, but like any situation you live and learn. Crowley did both. He won't open anything and he will make damn sure nothing will be closed to him either. Crowley had decisions to make while standing alone within the bunker. Decisions of where to go now and what to do. It was sickening on how human that was, but it was what it was.

Decisions and reasons were his top priorities at the moment. He had to figure things out for himself for both his self-preservation and his future as the King of Hell. If Abaddon thinks she will claim that throne for herself she had another thing coming. With that thought Crowley decided it was best to stretch his legs, walk because what would he accomplish standing around in his quarters? All he was doing there was thinking and tasting the beginnings of a plot and goals forming. Normally Crowley wouldn't have a problem with that but the problem of why's kept coming up and clouding it.

He had to solve that first then he could get back onto the chess board and if he was careful enough he could move the Winchester's about to his aim and this situation might just be salvageable. It could be a beneficial arrangement if everything works out. Granted with Crowley you always had to worry about the fine print. Unless you were Dick Roman who knew to read thoroughly. Crowley was still annoyed with that, but the situation worked out best for Crowley in the end anyway. All he did was have to go back on his own word and against the deal he made. It was something Crowley was capable of doing, willing to do to get ride of a thing that he didn't want to share the Earth with.

And that worked beautifully, sadly though with one problem solved there was always others that required to be dealt with and one thing Crowley has seen was that he had to deal with it on his own. And Crowley firmly believes that it was because of him dealing with problems was part of the reason things weren't worse then what they are now. But there was problems still. Too many of them.

His own resurfaced memories brought on by the curing. Why he saved Dean from selling his soul. Why he came back here willingly when he knows he could have found a way to keep Dean from the bunker and with it kept his freedom. Perhaps put a use to the smaller of the Winchester's that would suit the boy. Who knew. But here Crowley was back in his prison with his thoughts and undesirables. Crowley missed having demons at his beck and call.

Walking through the bunker's hallways Crowley really wasn't putting nearly as much thought as he should have into where he was going until he turned a corner and stopped dead in his tracks the same time Kevin did. They both ended up looking at each other trying to gauge the others motivations and intent.

And to be honest Crowley had to admit that this was a bit unexpected, Crowley wasn't looking for the young Prophet. Crowley was simply trying to clear his head of his own problems of questions of why's. But he could use this as a form of distraction as well. Crowley was easily adaptable like that, so he simply stared the boy down. Kevin himself seemed to be surprised and seemed like he couldn't quit decide whether to fight or flight.

Crowley was aware of the purpose Kevin had as a Prophet, doing what angels couldn't. Read the tablet that was written in an ancient form of Enochian that even Crowley didn't know how to read. Crowley remembered one brief conversation where Castiel accidentally let it slip that most angels didn't know how to read or write in old or even modern Enochian. They knew sigils and basic's but beyond that they were nothing more then soldiers meant and created to obey. Crowley couldn't tell if it was Michael's or Raphael's influence or even if it was God's influence. In the end he didn't care.

Crowley didn't know how to read the old style of Enochian, the language the Tablets were written in. But Crowley was self taught in the modern Enochian, or what could be passed as Modern that was in fact ancient by human standards.

It was Kevin who spoke first and not because Crowley didn't know what to say, Crowley simply made the choice to remain silent while the boy gathered himself together to grow a backbone that might just resemble his mother's. But then Linda Tran was a tough old bird as it was. And for the amount of time it took Kevin to gather himself together to say something Crowley was rather disappointed with the one worded question he was trying to get away from.

“Why?”

Though with Kevin there was a lot more accusation laced in that one word. It was enough to stave off his own need to answer his own why's to focus on Kevin's. To mock Kevin's. And for a moment he pictured everything he has done to Linda Tran and everything he wanted to do to her but never got the chance.

“Why what? Why did I kill the virgin girlfriend who was waiting for you to make a move? Why did I kill your Mother? Why is there demons, angels, monsters. Why what? You're going to have to be more specific.” Crowley mocked despite the fact that he was well aware of what Kevin wanted to know. It wasn't Crowley's fault that the boy was so easily taunted and pushed. The boy was teetering between crumbling and rebuilding himself. Sanity and losing it all.

“You damn well know what I meant! I know why you killed Channing! Why you killed my Mother, for informa-” Kevin forced out, the kid was angry and Crowley could tell from the boy's stance that there was more to the soft Prophet. The kid knew how to fight but never did beyond using knowledge to hide.

“If you know why, then why are you asking?” Crowley interrupted, he was amused at the moment and that almost gave him the temptation to give something in return for the amusement he was getting for free pretty much.

Now there was an idea that he had to explore after he was done with amusing himself with Kevin.

“Why did you do it, you could have got things without killing them. What you... I deserve to know it all, she's my Mother.” Kevin forced out, angry tears threatening to form no doubt. Crowley only wished that they would, one more thing to mock the boy with. But Crowley wasn't going to let himself go and behave like a young demon so he restrained his disappointment and the temptation to hurry them up and acknowledged what Kevin said. That kind of why, Crowley was almost tempted to scold himself for not figuring that out sooner.

The I deserves could annoy anyone normally, but Crowley was amused and he'll tolerate it because why not disclose information. A payment for giving him some amusement. So he agreed to tell Kevin that he'll tell him what he wants to know and Kevin made sure that Crowley knew that he wanted to know the what and the why. Foolish boy.

“Why I killed her, because I was done with her. I got the information I wanted and because I'm a demon I can do things like that and not feel the guilt a human would. That's why I killed her. Now as for what, that's an interesting question to answer but brace yourself because it's not an easy answer to hear.” Crowley said and as soon as he got the shaky nod for him to continue and a guarantee that the boy would try not to interrupt him, Crowley continued calmly as he walked with Kevin throughout the bunker away from the Winchester's but close enough they can easily get to Kevin if the young Prophet felt threatened even though the bracelets kept him tamed physically for the most part.

“I couldn't do as much as I wanted to, this isn't Hell after all. I was dealing with flesh and not a soul. And believe me, it's a mercy to be on my table then on a demon of the past's rack. Dean can attest to that, he was on Alastair's. As for Linda Tran, she fought every step of the way. She even picked the handcuffs to get away prompting a response of me breaking her wrists in two places each to make her hands next to useless. Then came the game of twenty questions...”

Crowley continued on from there with the exception of the occasional interruption made out of horror. Kevin didn't like to hear about the fact that Crowley tortured her. Didn't like to hear that Crowley started with her finger nails and toe nails first then the breaking of delicate bones and cuts. Kevin didn't believe Crowley when he said that what he did was mild, that Crowley like other demons would have wanted to break every bone in her body and forcefully take her while she's nothing but a conscious rag doll. That really got Kevin going to the point he had to use a wall to brace himself.

Crowley watched as the colour drained completely from his face as horror over took it, there was tears as well. Crowley had the idle thought that if he was Fergus, if he was who he used to be he would be on his knees and pleading for forgiveness. Instead Crowley was standing and Kevin was on the ground sobbing.

“Your mother-Linda Tran didn't break like you think, she didn't give in. She's a mother, mothers wouldn't when her child is threatened. A decent mother anyway. I've had mother's try to sell their children to me before.” Crowley said before really putting much thought. Was he trying in a roundabout way to counsel the boy?

When Crowley got no response he made a move to walk away before deciding to add one more thing and leave Kevin here in his own mess and thoughts.

“I snapped her neck, didn't bother continuing. Instead I went to the second option and found you that way. Yes I could have used that option first, but I didn't because I'm a demon first and foremost. Consider her being a good mother and on Earth to be a blessing.” Crowley calmly said before casually walking towards the library. This whole exchange gave him an idea. Crowley only said what he did because Kevin was amusing him, giving him amusement.

So perhaps that is what could play to Crowley's benefit. A favour for a favour and in order to get this deal done and sealed he wanted someone who's not sick and not a broken sobbing mess behind him. No, for this not for souls deal he was going to talk with the unwitting leader of this little team free will club.

So with that in mind Crowley instantly turned to the direction of the Library where he spotted Dean wallowing in his own misery and smiled. Crowley observed Dean for a good five minutes before moving confidently into the library and sitting across from Dean, in a sense even Crowley had to admit that he was the prettier of the Winchester's. Lips that could be quit useful for things other then talking. But this wasn't a time for idle musings of a bored demon. Right now was a time for chances of deals and succeeding in what he needs and what could benefit them all.

“What do you want Crowley?” Dean was obviously not all that trusting Crowley the second he sat down with a the type of confidence Crowley was now radiating. The confidence of a man who already won.

“You should be grateful Winchester, I saved you from damning yourself to the pit come five years. Perhaps a little less attitude for the moment, you could go back to back talking and sassing me later.” Crowley reprimanded, perhaps it wasn't a good idea to patronize your intended target for a deal. But with Dean sometimes you had to patronize the boy into unbalanced territory of emotions. The risk though was the slight if not complete unpredictability that comes with it.

Dean seethed, sputtered and insulted Crowley for bringing that up.

“Relax love, I'm not here to argue with you or rub it in your face more then it already has been with conversations with the moose and Kevin.” Crowley stated, silencing the boy for a moment and Crowley enjoyed the silence for a moment because it would only last a moment. He did have to admit though that Dean did have a creativity for insults when he wasn't stumbling over words like a moron.

“Then why are you here Crowley?!” Dean snapped and Crowley could feel the satisfied stretch across his face as Crowley relaxed back in his seat watching Dean idly for a moment, wishing he had a drink to go with his improving mood.

“I want to make a deal more like an-” Crowley should have expected to be interrupted the second he said 'deal' because it was what brought Dean to a situation where he was bitter and alone in the library. So Crowley did what he could to push and ignore the annoyance he had at the fact that he was interrupted by one simple but annoying word.

“No.”

“It won't require souls Dean. I don't want your soul, not at the moment. There's something more important here and now then one soul despite how alluring it is. So bright and collectable.” Crowley stated and he considered himself a man of his word. No souls will be collected for this deal because the prize was bigger then that.

“Then what is it?” Dean snapped and Crowley didn't let the question fool him. It didn't mean Dean was going to agree, it just means Dean was searching for information. Blunt and straightforward like. But that was something Crowley could work with and had a lot of room to do so.

With an offered smile Crowley sat forward and rested his arms on top of the table.

“Quid pro quo Dean, a little bit of this for that. You and your small group and myself can have a little understanding going. We work together but through the form of exchanged favours.” Crowley explained calmly and no he didn't expect an instant yes or now. Like any good business man Crowley can wait for his client to think things through no matter how long it would take. Though they didn't have all the time in the world to think.

He needed a decision and he needed one soon.

It was obvious that Dean was putting honest serious thought into this. Perhaps more thought then he did with the Crossroad demon who Crowley took down, he was still miffed at the fact that some nameless and no good amateur was setting foot in his area of expertise and trying to set claim to a soul it had no right to.

“If I go along with this, how long does this deal last?” Dean asked. Crowley would have called him a 'smart boy' for having the right idea in asking questions and it made things a bit more interesting for Crowley rather then simple 'I want this for that' deals that doesn't always have the elements spoken of. It's where he gets people the hardest with the fine print, so in truth Crowley couldn't complain.

“Until the day you die.” Crowley answered with a shrug, he could have continued to say that there was no guarantee that Crowley would even need him after they solve this mess. But decided that it went without saying and Crowley wasn't about to give himself the short stick in this situation. Dean sat back at the answer though,adding it to his thoughts and again thinking things through.

If Dean was thinking, he would know the benefits at the moment would be that he had a resources open to him that could help push back Abaddon's advances. Crowley himself could pull strings, but he would have to have the freedom it would go a lot easier.

“You don't ask anything of Sa-” Dean tried, Crowley won't though. Normally he would be open to deal changes and rewording before it's sealed. But not today, not with this deal.

“That's not the deal darling. It involves everyone.” Crowley interrupted because if anything you have to handle Winchester's with a firm hand. So this means keep to his word and the original deal. Dean would have to simply adapt to Crowley and if not then he'll sit back and watch as they stumble until they realize they need what Crowley knows. Then what would they do, work him over? There was nothing they could do that Crowley hasn't had done or doesn't have done in particular moods that required more pain or pleasure in his stimulus.

“Then everyone should be here.” Dean tried, and Crowley had to hold back the huff of laughter that threatened to push forward. Who was Dean trying to fool? Crowley was a pro at this. Dean however was not.

“Go get them then.” Crowley offered indicating the door behind Dean and waited.

Dean didn't move, Crowley just smiled because he knows that Dean doesn't want to involve everyone but was torn because this involved everyone. It was rather amusing. Crowley didn't say right off the bat that he probably won't use Sam anyway, the larger boy was sick and useless to Crowley besides being used as collateral if need be and his knowledge. Crowley would admit that Sam was smart, too smart at times but that could be adapted to and used.

“No souls?” Dean asked, no doubt double checking for himself. Crowley would be bored and perhaps embarrassed for the boy if he didn't.

“No.” A simple confirmation, it was all that was needed and Crowley simply waited on Dean.

“What's the catch?” Dean asked and Crowley couldn't blame him there, the threat of fine print after all.

“You might not always like the favour I ask you but I won't hide from you what it is in the long run. Up front and honest.” Crowley answered and it was the truth. There was never any guarantee that they would like what Crowley would ask. It could be anything from a simple fetch to damning information and life threatening situations.

Crowley knows what a weakening man looked like, one who was relenting to the temptations put in front of him. And Dean fit the bill perfectly at the moment. Normally Dean Winchester wasn't a weak man, Crowley can even admit this but not aloud. But right now like always they had their backs against the wall. Heaven closed and a new enemy in the form of Abaddon moving relentlessly with other pressures. It made the Apocalypse seem like simple times in the end.

Crowley only smiled when Dean rubbed his face with a tired and stressed motion, cursed a bit. Crowley took that as his cue and walked over to Dean's side and leaned against the table looking down at the tired hunter. He knows he's got this one in the bag.

“F-Fine. It's a deal.” Dean said and boy did he sound miserable, acting as if it was the end of his life. Crowley chuckled slightly, the taste of one victory bagged was sweet on his tongue.

“Don't be so down Dean, this isn't the end of the world.” Crowley declared and before Dean could demand on why it was a good thing and no doubt ruin any good mood Crowley had, he silenced him with a firm and unyielding kiss and going so far to hold the back of Dean's head to make sure the boy couldn't pull away while Crowley indulged in the part of making a deal he could both find amusing and annoying depending on the kisser.

It turned out that Dean was a good kisser if not a bit reluctant after he gave up fighting.

As soon as he let Dean go and stood back up he couldn't help but find amusement at the undignified look he was getting though Crowley decided to stay mercifully quiet at the moment. He still had business to attend to.

“Now, let's talk about my parole.” Crowley stated as he indicated the unobtrusive looking restraints around his wrists that kept him bound to the bunker. As far as the possible repercussions went, this wasn't so bad. In fact things were far easier on him then they were on Dean regarding the deal the boy tried to make. Despite the easy nature of the consequences and the current situation, Crowley was fully aware that there was still things to be dealt with. Not all of them going to be as easy and simple as this situation. But if anything Crowley was survivor and he was able to adapt. That will play in his favour.

As for the current situation, the deal was set and sealed. There was still the matter of little details that could be written up under sub categories that could either make or break a civilized agreement but won't undo the deal that was just made and that meant one less problem to deal with. It was a good thing that Crowley was good at what he did, he was a businessman and if there's anything he enjoyed, it was making a sale and dealing with the details. It was in a sense a hobby for him now. One of many considering he had to do something to keep busy, he doesn't sleep after all.

“Deal didn't include you being set free, just means I scratch your back and you scratch mine. A favour for a favour Crowley.” Dean pointed out, almost haughty in the fact that he got to pull a stunt where he gets to disagree simply because the deal didn't set the guidelines saying he had to let Crowley go.

Now some would think Crowley would be furious and undignified at such a stunt. An amateur trying to take control of his deal and his contract. But all Crowley could feel was amusement, now where was this boy when making a deal with that crossroad demon. Or was it only Crowley who got that pleasure? It was an amusing thought to say the least and if Crowley didn't know better, he would think that the Elder Winchester was flirting with him.

“That was the deal now wasn't it?” Crowley acknowledged still holding his confident disposition though anyone would be blind if they didn't see the amusement that was now present. Crowley cut Dean off before he could even have a reply to that. Crowley was taking control of the direction of this conversation.

Dean scowled, clearly not as amused as Crowley was with the situation. Instead he sat back while everything around him screamed that he wasn't pleased. Crowley on the other hand tucked his hands in his pockets and held a relaxed position.

“Very well then squirrel. What do you want?” Crowley asked after a few short moments making sure to keep eye contact with Dean who did look a bit tired due to the time of night it was as well as the situations that he has been going through. It could explain why he was near desperate and clueless for one crossroad demon and yet be aware enough that he's able to function against a master of deal making. Being tired could do many things to someone and everyone was different, Crowley often found it amusing when he had the time to stop and observe in between influencing others or his deal making and ruling Hell.

“I want a weapon, a gun that could do what the Colt did. Something that could kill demons.” Dean stated and if there was anything Crowley was expecting, it wasn't that. Something that could kill demons means it could kill him as well, he would be vulnerable and the Winchester's would hold something that could kill him. And what if Kevin got a hold of that weapon? Crowley didn't want to deal with the headache and he made the Winchester fully aware of this. Offering other things instead and Crowley had a wide range of things he could give.

But sadly there was no take, Dean Winchester was many things and one of them was stubbornness.

“If I get you a weapon then I want your word that these cursed things come off and you will not under any circumstance use that weapon against me.” Crowley stated and meant every word. He didn't say how horrible the consequences would be if they so much as try to shoot in his direction. He'll make them wish to for Hell just for a break from the pain Crowley will put them through.

Dean stood up at this point, though Crowley made no movements himself. Instead just kept his eyes on the Winchester and waited for his response. Crowley could tell that Dean was rather proud of himself, glad that he seemed to get on top of the situation. Crowley let him feel that simply because sometimes letting someone feel like they were in control was more beneficial then knocking them down and making them realize that they were never in control.

“I'll try not to shoot you Crowley.” Dean said in order to accommodate Crowley, though it hardly did anything close to that. Crowley didn't want some half spoken truths regarding his own safety. Crowley wanted proper guarantee's that he won't be targeted with that particular weapon. And Crowley refused to bend on the matter until he gets what he wants and he knows that going along with this sub-category deal won't come back to harm him in the end.

Crowley will admit that he did want to find a way to get a gun like that to Dean, he knows who the Winchester wants dead with that gun and in this case the chances of it being Crowley is low. Dean wasn't that stupid to make a deal that had the agreements that he couldn't use that weapon on the dealer. Yes there was the chances Dean could simply hand the gun over to Sam or Kevin, but that could be dealt with should that day come.

“Not good enough Winchester. A yes or no will suffice.” Crowley disagreed and it was as he said it was. A seven worded guarantee wasn't detailed enough for Crowley's taste. He wanted something more concrete then what was given.

“Fine I won't try to shoot you with the weapon you'll get for us and in return I'll take the leash off.” Dean snapped angrily, stepping away from the table and from Crowley. Crowley thought over the wording and the response for a moment, not leaving anything to chance. There was plenty of obvious loopholes Dean could use and Crowley can use that for himself if need be.

Holding out his wrists to Dean with a smile.

“We have an agreement of our first little arrangement and you did well, give it time and you'll almost be someone who's decent at making deals.” Crowley agreed, satisfied with Dean's second attempt at wording something that would benefit them both. Or at least Crowley considered it to be beneficial to the both of them if they played their cards right.

“Not a chance Crowley.” Dean stated as he stepped towards Crowley and reluctantly took the bracelets off. There was no longer any spells protecting the three other occupants of the bunker besides Crowley, leaving them open for whatever Crowley would want to do to them. But Crowley won't do a thing. Not at the moment simply because they all had more use to him alive then dead and tortured. Crowley rubbed his wrists and felt satisfied that he no longer had them trapping him in his prison. He was free to leave. But given how things were in the world, this was his best chance of survival so he'll stay here for now.

With one thing solved and taken care of, freedom regained and in a shockingly short time. There was still some things that needed to be tended to. One thing they both agreed on was that the bunker needed to be protected and Crowley could add to that.

“You're not changing anything without Sam or my supervision and knowledge of what it is you're doing.” Dean stated and Crowley knew he wasn't going to get better, he worked with worse. So this made Crowley come up with another option that wouldn't require him touching the bunker, just having some control over the surroundings. His solution was simple.

Hellhounds.

Crowley had four of them and three of them were bigger then most because Crowley bred them himself. They were top of the line trackers and killers. His precious pup's. He used to have five but one was killed when Sam's body was fetched. The hound Sam killed wasn't one of his, it was a mangy mutt that Crowley commandeered. No loss to him. Dean didn't like the idea but Crowley reassured him that they won't be bothered by the hounds even if they went out for a walk. It was a reluctant agreement.

Another thing Crowley wanted to take care of was his living quarters. He wanted a room rather then a cell he was using as his quarters as a sense of defiance. Turning the place where he was held against his will around and owning it for a time being. Dean didn't want him to have privacy and Crowley insisted on it. It was a bit of a back and forth thing until Crowley brought up his Friday night activities, not all that true but not entirely false either. It all depended on his mood, but Dean looked disgusted and agreed to the door but it has no lock. It was a small price to pay.

The final thing was informing Dean before he left the room complaining about images he'll never get ride of was that Crowley had to leave the property in order to fetch supplies he would require, a grocery list in a sense forming in his mind. Things he wanted and needed. Dean wanted updates in everything Crowley was doing, didn't trust him with good reason. Crowley reminded Dean that a favour for a favour didn't mean keep in touch or answering to Dean for everything.

With the feeling of satisfaction Crowley relocated to the first destination he decided on. Things have gone well so far, now all he had to do was to keep playing his cards right.


	3. Discoveries and New Ground Discovered

Even a few days later Dean couldn't ignore what he's done in regards to his deal with Crowley. Although he knows that it may not have been for souls but Dean feels like it could still cost something that important in the end. After all Dean knows and seen what roads with good intentions could lead if not careful and Dean had good intentions with it. His only remaining friend could personally testify to this.

And now Dean was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Being that he was a Winchester and fate and everything in between liked to screw with Winchester's he didn't expect the eerie calmness that now has settled around them and the bunker to last. The world for the most part carried on as though everything was normal. Like angels didn't fall from Heaven and that the Gate of Hell wasn't nearly closed. Dean was always taught by life that you don't look gift horses in the mouth, but lately he knows that he should.

Sam agreed with him which is probably what lead to the unavoidable clash between them in regards to Sam's miraculous getting well. Dean was half shocked and half grateful that it took this long to come out in the open. At least he got to enjoy some moments from then to now where they were happier then they were in years. When things were almost like normal, or at least normal for them.

But now, that could be gone as easy as it was for Sam to enter his room.

Of course Sam came in at first expecting it to be a case they could work on. But Dean couldn't let his brother carry on thinking this was just another case. This case was tied directly to Sam. It took everything Dean had to remain where he was and tell Sam the news, that he knew about the death's long before Sam did and what that meant exactly.

Needlessly said Sam didn't take it too well the second he wrapped his mind around what Dean just told him.

And just like that things between them went from almost normal and happy to something more familiar and worse in so many normal ways. Dean clearly saw anger and as much as he hated it but there was disgust as well. It was plainly obvious that Sam was far from pleased at what he just found out. Sam went from wanting to go on a case to wanting to know why and how and everything to do with what Dean obviously did to get this done.

Those demands and questions were far heavier then Dean would have liked. And for a moment, less then a second even, Dean wanted to be back on the rack instead. Seeing the anger and disgust on his brother while feeling his own shame was a severe torture in itself. Dean would know because of his experiences with Alastair and the demon's methods of torture that sometimes had Sam being used as a tool to do so.

Dean didn't answer the questions right off the bat though, Sam had to push which was something that was both good and bad in Dean's case. Sam pulled the 'I deserve' card a few times during the back and forth questioning. And true to that, Dean knows his brother deserves to know. If there was anyone who deserved the truth more it was Sam.

So Dean told him, voice stiff with regret and as close to emotionless as Dean could he told his brother nearly everything. Everything except for why, the most important part in a sense and it was the easiest question to answer because Dean knows why and it should be obvious to Sam.

That question wasn't asked. Sam didn't ask and Dean didn't know if it was because he didn't want to know of if Sam already knew the answer. Instead Sam had to leave the room with a cold statement of needing his space to figure out things for himself. Dean would rather have been shot but he didn't. Instead he got up as calmly as he could and left the Bunker entirely. He needed to get drunk, he needed some way to vent everything that seemed to keep building up faster then he can adapt to.

He wasn't young like he used to be, he wasn't the person who could shrug things off like he used to be able to. Dean knows he's more damaged and twisted and not always right in the head. And Dean hated that, he was no longer the same person he used to be and would rather be at times. But neither was Sam.

Dean at this point started to park his car with all the other classics in the bunker's garage, it was nice to have a place for his baby. He could keep her out of the way and sight far easier this way. It was little things like having his own room and garage and a kitchen that made this place the closes thing he has had to a home in too many years. Dean wouldn't give it up now. It was better because Sam was here as well and for the most part not showing signs of leaving.

Unless this situation causes Sam to leave but Dean couldn't imagine that, they've been through too much and suffered through too much to just walk away from each other now. So he hoped that Sam would stick around for some time now. Dean will. But at the moment he was going to do the easiest thing for him to do.

Get drunk.

Dean was an alcoholic and at times a recovering alcoholic but never for very long. Alcohol was something that was far too easy for Dean to get into and abuse. And Dean does because it's the only thing he could find that would successfully numb his pain and quieten his memories even for a moment. He wondered how Sam managed to not become a drunk as much as Dean is?

Dean took the route he knows well enough that he find it in his sleep. He's been to the bar a few times to either eat or drink. Sometimes Sam came with him and when they could Kevin came as well. But it was always risky to take Kevin out of the bunker in case there was demons or angels after him. At least if it was one or both of the Winchester's the situation could be handled well enough.

Dean was relieved when he noticed that it was a busy night. More people there was the easier Dean could put on an act and drown in it so long as Dean doesn't get himself angry at how little they know and see and acknowledge. Sometimes Dean wondered what it would be like to be acknowledged for the sacrifices he's made. When he was young and still made to go to school he told people he was a hero, told anyone who would have listened.

But Dean isn't a hero. He's a hunter and a killer and he was far from the supposed righteous man that he was told he was. But he did what he could to help who he could because this was his world and he wanted to keep others in their ignorant bliss as best that he could. It was the least he could do. If everyone knew what kind of darkness was out there, there would be panic and chaos and nothing good.

So with that in mind, Dean knows he'll carry on because what other choice was there.

Dean took a moment to collect himself before exiting his baby and entering the bar with a sure of himself grin. A comfortable and well worn mask. Dean bought himself the cheapest drink he could and went to work. By the time he was three bottles in he was joined by his brother who looked out of breath. Dean wondered what was so important that caused his brother to risk his health to jog or run here. Concern instantly bubbled to the surface as he pulled his brother to a table where they could be as close as you could come to being alone.

“What's wrong?” Dean instantly asked, not able to put up the mask he was originally wearing in favour of a familiar feel of concern and worry for his brother.

“Nothing like that... I jogged and ran to clear my head. You were gone for about two hours. That left me time to uh- to think.” Sam answered, instantly soothing the worry that something was wrong. Though with that emotion gone came another type of worry and concern. One that was just as familiar. Dean let his brother continue on with a wave of his hand, not trusting himself to say the right thing. This seemed like it required more care and wording then what was normal for a Winchester.

“I'm not saying I agree with what you did, you called Maggie and Don Stark to use their magic to bring me back at the cost of five people – let me finish...” Sam said and of course he spotted when Dean wanted to interrupt and defend himself. Dean knows that Sam doesn't agree with it but there was no going back and no take backs either. Dean could live with that cost because Sam would always be the top choice. Over everything and everyone else. It was just how Dean worked.

Dean gave Sam the go ahead.

“I understand why you did it, I can't say that I would have chosen any different myself. I just- Why did you feel like that was your only option? Surely there could have been others that wouldn't have cost the lives of five people?” Sam said, it was obvious that he was trying to be reasonable and understand Dean's point in this but there was still that look in his eye that had Dean feeling like he was being judged and prosecuted for his choice.

“I made a choice, can't say it was the right one. But I don't regret the end result of it. And what else was I supposed to do? Who else would have helped us? We made a lot of enemies Sam, both in Heaven and Hell. Not many would be wanting to risk their necks for us. And how was I supposed to know if any of them would have used that situation to have us in a tough situation. Make us-me make hard choices between you and whatever. I had to think, pick the lesser of two evils here. And you know what? I can live with that simply because here you are. Alive Sam, you're alive and even if – even if you hate me for it I an live with that too because you're alive and that's all that matters.” Dean explained and was mildly annoyed with how loose his tongue was with only three drinks down. He checked the alcohol contents and was annoyed at how little there was and it still had an effect. What happened to being able to drink a lot and still function well enough?

Dean signalled for another only to have it waved off by Sam. Dean wasn't fond of that, but apparently Sam didn't want to be interrupted by someone bringing another drink.

“I don't- I'm not going to hate you Dean?! How can you even think that?” Sam demanded and Dean cursed his luck. Why did he have to open his mouth?! Dean made sure Sam knew that he was annoyed but like usual that never stops Sam. Instead Sam pushed on and Dean had to make a choice.

Seriously piss his brother off and destroy any progress this situation had for being repaired or go along with his little brother's wonderful timing for a chick flick moment. With an irate sigh he rubbed his eyes before sitting back and regarding his brother.

“Because I would. Five lives, five people Sam. I traded them for you. Their lives-not souls for your life. And I'm willing to do things like that Sam. I'm broken and twisted in wrong ways enough to do things like that.” Dean explained and hated how many strips were being pulled back for Sam in order to keep the progress and keep whatever mended bond they had in place. But who knows, maybe in the end it would be worth it.

Of course from there Sam turned it around onto himself. Or tried to, but Dean had him by the collar and was in his face enough to drive the point home. Even though he was alive and five were now dead, it wasn't Sam's fault. Sam was until recently ignorant to it. It was all on Dean, only on himself and that was how Dean was going to keep it.

As soon as Sam figured out he wasn't going to win that argument they sat in silence and this time he let Dean order two more drinks. But Sam didn't drink his, instead deciding to not go down that route. Kevin needed one person to be sober. It was something that stung more then it should have. But Dean took a gulp of his drink just to numb that down. He wanted to be as good as drunk. At least let him have this one night of it. Though Dean knows in the back of his mind, once he goes down this route there wasn't just one night of it.

The conversation died down between them, if there ever was one in the first place. And the parting was bitter at best. Sam took the car back because Dean insisted on it, said he'll walk back. Sam made sure to slip Dean a weapon before he reluctantly left with the Impala. Dean carried on with drinking and thinking, he could no longer keep up the no care attitude.

Instead he looked and seemed like a bitter drunk slouched over his drink and table. It was childish perhaps, to remain here and sulking but right now there was no where else Dean could think of being. At least here he could focus on something other then the mess his-their life has become because of Angels and Demons and everything in between. It wasn't until late the next day that Dean actually dragged himself back into the bunker. Nobody was entirely pleased with him for it. Especially Sam.

“Where were you?” Sam's only demand and Kevin made a comment which earned him with a glare from both Winchester's. Dean brushed it off though and pushed pass Sam and towards the showers where he could get some of the stink he picked up from the bar off. Maybe wake himself up well enough to function and get himself out of the pity party situation he thrown himself into.

The rest of that day was tense, a development that continued on for the rest of the month. Dean knew it was his fault due to his lack of budging and the weight of the knowledge that brought on Sam's health weighing on them. Hunts were still carried out including one rather embarrassing decision to drink a concoction that linked Dean with a dog which in turn allowed him to understand most animals. It was a troubling experience to say the least and Dean still had the urge to either chase mailmen or pee on things.

There was also the fact that Sam found out about the deal Dean made with Crowley. But Sam at least let Dean know that he was relieved that it wasn't for a soul. But needlessly said, Dean was in the dog house and will be for a very long time to come. Kevin liked it even less then Sam did but knew not to push the issue. For now anyway.

The tense mood didn't ease off whenever Crowley popped in, instead it increased and Dean knows it's because of who Crowley was and the deal that Sam was aware of now. Crowley knew this of course and simply loved to stir the pot, which led to Dean having to deal with him because if not then mistakes could be made and temperaments could get in the way of progress. Not that he helped any because sometimes Dean would push boundaries too much and sometimes it was Crowley who tested the limits of what he could get away with. So clashes were unavoidable but because of their deal neither went farther then getting in each others faces and the odd punch or kick from either of them.

Besides that, it was wrongfully civil between the two of them. But the deal he made with Crowley was still on his mind. Dean didn't want to admit that he was wary on asking favours because he didn't know what Crowley would ask in return but he knew one day he would have to ask for something because that was how life was for Winchester's. You find ways to damn yourself or get yourself in rough situations. Crowley instead took the initiative and asked a favour.

Make a call from within the bunker.

Dean of course refused instantly and Crowley reminded them of their deal. Dean didn't want to agree so he kept trying to come up with different idea's that Crowley could use instead of the Bunker. Who knows what could be let into the bunker. Crowley assured him that it was only a call, nothing in or out. Just a simple call. Dean knows though better then some, with Crowley there was no such thing as simple.

But then if Crowley could make a call then what sort of favour could he use in return? Dean enquired of what limits did the favours had, Crowley mocked him of course and simply reminded Dean that it meant any sort of favour. He had to think about that, but first thing's first. If he couldn't get Crowley to budge on why he wants to make a phone call from inside the bunker.

“Why do you want to make a call from inside the bunker and how, it's not like anyone here's going to lend you their phone.” Dean pushed as he followed after Crowley. Distrust was his main issue for following but then again Crowley so far was the only one who wasn't tense with Dean. It was almost comical and if it was anyone else Dean might have laughed. But this was Crowley, the King of Hell.

“I have my own phone but for this I need blood, human blood. Any volunteers?” Crowley answered and Dean noted that Crowley wasn't answering everything. Avoiding was probably closer to what Crowley was doing. Dean let it slide and concentrated on the fact that Crowley needed blood, Dean knew why though. He's seen it done before and saw the evidence that it took place.

Of course Dean fought Crowley on the volunteer part. In the end even Dean knew the fight was superficial at best, Crowley would get blood either way. From Sam or Kevin, so Dean volunteered his own blood because he couldn't stand the idea of Crowley using either of their blood to make a phone call.

Dean looked at his own blood that was in a bowl and refused to leave the room because he didn't trust Crowley with it. What would stop him from doing some sort of spell or anything like that with the use of his blood? Of course Crowley must have figured that out and reminded Dean of their agreement in the deal. Crowley takes those seriously apparently and now that the deal was in writing and sealed there won't be any other curse or spell on top of that one.

His leaving the room was reluctant at best. And he still had to figure out what favour to ask Crowley in return, not to mention the gun. What was taking so long in creating the gun? Not to mention should he hang around Crowley's door or go do what he was originally going to do before Crowley arrived and clean his gun's like he does often. Not to mention his knives needed to be sharpened, they were something he has more of now then before Hell. Dean liked to think that it was just because he as a hunter has a wide range of weapons he uses, but that wasn't the complete truth if unspoken truth at best.

It was decided when he heard Sam call his name and for the first time since Dean told Sam how he got better a month ago there was happiness found in his little brother's voice. So Dean was instantly curious to see what managed to make his brother happy. It took a total of fifteen minutes to make it from where he was to the entrance where Dean instantly stopped where he was and stared openly.

He didn't expect him to come back.

“Cas...”

“Hello Dean.” Castiel greeted in the welcoming monotone the former angel will probably never lose even if he loses the deeper tone that was essentially Castiel in favour of a more human one now that there was less strain on the vocal cords. Despite the chick flick value of it, Dean gave his closes friend a hug. Everything has been so stressful lately so even Dean had to admit that it was a nice change of pace and a big relief to see his friend.

Of course after that they followed through with the typical tests to make sure Cas wasn't possessed or anything but Castiel. And everything came back negative, this was Castiel. Everyone relocated to the library, it was quickly becoming the room where they do any and all talking. And it was catch up time.

Castiel has found out a few things in regards to Abaddon and the fallen angels. Sam and Dean listened intently as did Kevin. Abaddon was trying to take over Hell, which to be honest Dean saw that coming. But what he didn't expect was how she was going about it, to Dean it seemed sloppy and psychotic. Azazel was more sane then this. And in regards to the angels. Like usual there was your good ones and then the ones Dean happily classifies as 'dicks with wings' and for good reasons.

But all of the angels were aiming to get back into Heaven. A task Castiel doesn't know how to go about or if you could get back into Heaven. Castiel clearly told them he feared that if the angels couldn't get back into Heaven then they would seek to take control and create a new world order. Kevin admitted at this point that the Angel table was extremely hard even for him to understand.

They were at a standstill there.

So they went back to a topic that was slightly easier to handle. Abaddon and what Castiel was doing. Apparently Castiel got himself a job here and there and Dean couldn't help but mock him for using the name Steve. Sam didn't find it as amusing and congratulated Castiel on his developments in getting on in the world.

“So what's with all the kills that Abaddon's been making?” Kevin asked, they did try to save people from her but she was behaving too erratically to keep up fully and there was a few close calls on hunts that involved her.

“She's killing humans who have contracts with me.” Crowley's voice cut in, Dean cursed the demons poor timing as any easy mood that was in the room fled quicker then you could even consider fleeing from Hellhounds. Castiel was on his feet and Crowley practically told him to back off.

“Why is she killing your contracts?” Sam asked as Castiel reluctantly sat down giving Dean a look that states that the former angel wanted a full explanation as soon as Crowley answers this question.

“Besides the obvious?” Crowley shot back, Dean could hear it in Crowley's voice. Besides the sarcasm there was an obvious 'are you stupid' statement that went unspoken but understood completely.

Dean wasn't entirely fond of it but didn't say a word because it was obvious that the demon wasn't finished at this point.

“She wants to rule. One way of ruling is destroying my hard work in setting a strict system up and killing off contracts means she collects those souls for herself and sometimes voiding them altogether. And Hell doesn't get the soul's who's contracts were voided, Heaven or neither gets them.” Crowley explained and Dean could swear he heard a simmering anger and hurt in Crowley's voice. But then again, Crowley did do a lot of work setting Hell up and Dean may not like it but he could understand what it feels like to have someone come in and systematically destroying that hard work.

Of course Kevin spoke up and asked why that wasn't a good thing. If looks could kill at that moment, Kevin would be dead a thousand times over. But beyond that he doesn't grace Kevin with a scolding answer. Instead he turns to Dean and gives him a pointed look.

“What?” Dean snapped, though to be honest that wasn't the smartest thing to do considering Crowley was more or less now apart of a civil war but in Hell. Dean wondered faintly what it was about Heaven and Hell having civil wars lately. And now couldn't help but find it curious on how come he didn't hear of a sort of war happening during his year with Lisa. When Crowley essentially became the King of Hell.

Was he elected or did he just slip into place when everyone was distracted by the abrupt end to the Apocalypse because of Sam?

“What you want to ask for in return of the favour I asked.” Crowley pointed out and Dean could tell just from the tone Crowley was considering him to be an idiot. Instantly he could see the disapproval on Castiel's face. It was at this point three people who disagreed with what Dean did when it came to his deal with Crowley.

“Call it an I owe you. But I will ask for something at some point.” Dean stated stiffly, Dean knows there was now an unspoken you can't say no in there now. Crowley would be the same way, Dean was sure of it. Crowley agreed and with a mocking smile that was meant to be pleasant turned and left the room. Dean doesn't know where the demon goes to but at the moment he could care less because as he turns to face everyone he could tell he was in for a long and uncomfortable conversation.

Dean felt like he was being judged at the moment, and he knows that he is. Judged for making a deal and trying to deal with the situations at hand. This wasn't something his Dad trained him for so Dean had to make due. As always. And if it protects Sam then no problem. Protecting others as well, that was a bonus.

“Dean have you learned nothing with my experiences during the civil war against Raphael? It was essentially the same, favour for a favour deal between myself and Crowley.” Castiel spoke, voice calm but Dean knows there was concern there. And he knows that Castiel was speaking the truth because this was just like that situation.

“I know Cas, I know.” Dean could hear his own wariness in his own voice and tried to push it away. He didn't need this. Not from Cas as well, he knows what he's did and he knows what type of mistake. Crowley even made it clear that Dean won't always like what Crowley asks of him. Crowley gave him an out, and Dean didn't take it and went for the deal instead. And just like that, it was so easy to damn yourself.

“Then why are you doing this? Back out now before it's too late.” Castiel insisted and Dean almost forgot that Sam and Kevin were in the room, they were uncomfortably quiet and Dean's attention was on the former angel who has saved his and his brother's life so many times now it wasn't funny. There was no way to pay back a debt like that, no words great enough to convey how grateful Dean actually was.

“I can't.” It was the truth though, Dean knows this and now he made sure they knew that too. He couldn't get out of the deal, it was made and sealed already.

“Why?” Castiel must be like Sam in that part, always pushing for answers and Dean wondered if Cas would listen to orders if Dean ordered him to stop asking. But that would be unfair and a low blow to a former angel.

“Because it's a lifetime deal.” And there it was, he told them why he couldn't get out. Why he was now stuck in a deal with Crowley with no actual way to get out of it.

“What?!” Sam's voice cut in then, Dean failed to tell him that this deal expires only with Dean's death. Not in ten years or a year but whenever Dean dies of natural or unnatural causes.

From there on it was a fight and Dean trying to stop Sam and Castiel from doing something that could ruin a lot of things. He brought up the fact that it was his choice and that it wasn't for souls. No souls were involved and Dean wondered why it was always him who screwed up and why it was always him who was left to feel like he failed somehow. With Dad. With Sam and Cas and sometimes even with Bobby.

He had to stop this, had to stop letting himself feel like that. But how could he when it feels like he has his back to the wall and being judged for doing what he felt he had no other choice but to do.

“I'm going out, this conversations over. I made a deal, yes but that's between me and Crowley. No souls were apart of it. I'm not going to damn myself and I know what I'm doing here, believe me when I say that.” Dean forced out as he stood up, Sam tried to reason with him and make him stay so they could talk more. Kevin and Cas too, but Dean was having none of it.

Didn't they see he did this for them in a round about way?

Then again, wasn't this what Castiel thought when he made the alliance with Crowley during that year Dean was with Lisa and the troubling time after Dean was pulled out of retirement. Castiel was just trying to protect them, stop the apocalypse 2.0 from happening.

Dean was stressed and tired and found himself falling into an old bad habit as he left the Bunker with his Impala. Dean made a hexbag to stay hidden at least in case any of Abaddon's demons were in town.

**= Crowley =**

Crowley relocated himself to the room he was currently using within the bunker. He was by no means a coward, but for now the safest place for him to get his thoughts together and plan the next move would be within the territory of his enemy who as luck would have it had the same enemy as he did. Not to mention a nifty little deal put in place with the eldest Winchester who to some degree was the leader of the misfit group.

The favour for a favour turned out to be a simple I owe you's which is something Crowley wasn't entirely fond of, he like most Crossroad demons and businessmen for that matter liked to pay upfront and not wait to owe someone back. But a deal's a deal and he now is waiting on Dean to let him know what the hunter would want. Information? If so then about what? Locations? To where and how would he get there?

What would a Winchester want at the moment?

But with no answers right away Crowley had to wait on the boy in regards to what to pay him back with. To him it was still too early in on this deal to see whether or not it would be a regrettable choice or not. Crowley did have the power to break the contract because he was the one holding it. For the moment, the possibilities outweigh the risks. Crowley was willing to keep to his decision on this gamble.

But the whole I owe you later in regards to the favour for a favour was the least of Crowley's problems for the moment. Abaddon was the number one problem. She was trying to overthrow him in his rightful place. And it was his rightful place to be the King of Hell. Who else could have taken it to the heights it was reaching, but him? Who else was a visionary past the basic old fashion torture and torment, but him?

Abaddon is an out of place demon throwing a tantrum and trying to steal a crown too big for her to fill despite all her Knight of Hell flaunting and power. Lilith would be ashamed, Crowley is ashamed that Abaddon was even considered a demon. She was breaking deals that were not her own to break, she was destroying good old fashion progress and creating chaos where there should be none.

She will burn. Crowley will see to it.

Pouring himself a drink of one of his more expensive drinks that only come from crystal bottles bought as a set about fifty years ago now. Crowley was a bit of a collector of beautiful things and pricy things. It was flawed a line out of place but the craftsmanship was something you won't find today. His drink always tastes better coming from it.

With the brief moment he now has, Crowley could find himself drifting off to a relaxed state that could almost be considered sleeping only Crowley was more awake then not. Not that he needed to sleep, it was simply an indulgent that Crowley claimed for himself.

Crowley refused to even consider to admit that since the attempt in curing him, there was things that were knocked loose in places Crowley thought was long dead. What he could say before that situation in the church could be true and from his past but mean nothing, now not so much. He knows and remembers and it burns in it's own way. But Crowley will endure, he will survive and rise further then before. He won't let a little bump in the road stop him.

This was only a setback.

And Crowley had a lot of setbacks but some of those setbacks brought him to this moment and brought him into who he was. Crowley was Lilith's favourite and he knows this. There was reasons he was her favourite. It was why he knows for certain that she would be ashamed of what Abaddon's doing to what used to be her kingdom before it was Lucifer's again and then finally Crowley's.

And like they never used to, sweet bitter and horrible memories trickle back into his mind. A new development to his relaxed states he used to and still indulges in. Only now coming with memories.

_He was back on the Rack. He was once again Fergus and panicked and in pain. The demon in front of him wasn't Alastair, Crowley would have thanked everything Unholy for that. It was only one of his students, a novice compared to most. But Fergus wouldn't know that, didn't know that. To him it hurt all the same. The sloppy cuts and tears. Forced tears and answers._

_Crowley knew how to use words even as Fergus though. So Fergus did what he was able to do, he talked. Bargained and after a hundred years with the novice who was getting better and better with concerning leaps and bounds, Fergus was set free from the Rack and for the first time in so long stood on shaky legs._

_With a gulp from a stripped of skin throat and a warning of get out of there from the demon, Fergus forgot to get it's name. Crowley on the other hand doesn't care what the demon's name was. If it had a name at all. Demons had to earn names. But Fergus doesn't know that and won't for some time after his foolhardy attempt to escape the Rack._

_Fergus fled not caring that his body was nude and broken, one hundred years took modesty from him._

_Fergus knew to keep quiet, it was best to not say a word. Scream or beg, whimper or groan. Keep moving, always keep moving because Fergus has been there long enough to fear what he can't see or control and that was everything and nothing in this place. So he kept moving._

_He didn't even make it twenty feet before he heard screams and pleading that didn't belong to the countless souls already screaming._

_Then silence. Horrifying silence followed. Instinct drove Fergus forward, he knows it's nothing good. Silence here was worse then the screaming. Worse then almost everything. Because silence meant one of the more powerful demons moved upon their little area of Hell. And just as quickly as the silence fell came the sound of snarling and howls from Hellhounds._

_The hounds were set on him. And it didn't take them long to get to Fergus who screamed and pleaded and tried to fight them off as fangs and teeth sunk into bleeding and bruised flesh that shouldn't exist here. Crowley knows the flesh doesn't exist, it was just a byproduct of a human memory of sight, feel, taste and touch._

_“Heel.”_

_A voice Fergus only heard in the background giving pointers to demons torturing souls on the same level as Fergus. The head torturer himself. The Chief of this entire area. The pit. Alastair. He wasn't the leader of Hell but by a nonexistent God he had a say in things and not even other demons took what he said unheeded. Fergus knew if you wanted a show of what power was, just be this guy._

_Fergus knew not to plead._

_“You think you could buy your way off of my Rack? Hmm? Think you could have the right to just wander off?” He had a recognizable tone. Deceptively calm and amused. He never looked the same or sounded the same, what never changed however was the eyes. The white filled with endless sadism eyes. You could get lost in them and that was something you never want to do._

_Fergus wanted to answer but his throat was half gone. He cowered and Crowley would be ashamed if it was any other demon who hovered over his broken and crumbled body._

_Fergus knew this was going to be it, he was going to die here for good and become nothing more then flesh on the ground. Fergus flinched and pulled away as best that he could when a soft feminine voice womanly and childlike at the same time spoke up._

_“Don't break him, I like him. I want him. Could you give him to me?”_

_Fergus turned and looked upon the newcomer and his eyes could only widen with astonishing. She was disgusting by human standards of beauty. Her flesh twisted and turned wrong but there was an artistic touch to her, beautiful in all her horror._

_To his astonishment the Chief Torturer, Alastair moved off and gave a charming smile that twisted the disfigured flesh of his face._

_With that he no longer belonged to him._

_Fergus belonged to her._

Crowley remembered that after he belonged to her nothing really made all that much sense at times. One thing Crowley did learn after she took him to her little spot in Hell. Her paradise in Hell you could say. She watched him buy his way off the Rack. She wasn't impressed that it took him a hundred years to get off but the fact that he didn't give up shows perseverance as she put it. He had a potential there and she wanted to shape him into something better then your average boring demon as she put it.

So she did. Crowley remembered the long years he spent with her. Crowley learnt a lot from her and she was willing to teach him as long as he obeyed her. After two hundred years with her and under her hand and control. Crowley lost his own name, he was no longer Fergus Roderick McLeod. Crowley wasn't even Crowley then.

He had a number, a number given to him by her.

L100HT/C666CR1661 was Crowley's number. His number was longer then most today because back when he was alive there was less humans so things meant more then in regards to having a number and becoming what he was then it does now. Now it was like serial numbers on a manufactured product in mass. Seriously lacking in Crowley's opinion but it's not going to change given the population rise in humans.

By then he had a job, not as a Crossroad demon. That came later. But when he was going by a number he was a caretaker of Hellhounds. Which was why he could handle them so well. Crowley bred his own out of the way and out of sight. Lilith might have known but didn't do anything about it, she didn't have to. She no doubt considered his out of the way hobby like how she liked to play house and Alastair played doctor and mad scientist with special projects. Either that or she didn't care because she knew that for the most part if there was one person Crowley was loyal to besides himself, and it was her. It was Lilith.

His caretaker, teacher and part time lover.

And one day, she had him prove it.

Crowley almost smiled at the memory, would have if he wasn't busy flipping through his cell phone and taking a sip of his pricey drink. Crowley wasn't smiling out of happiness or anything. It was just because that time in his life was another hurdle he got over. One step closer in a way.

_He didn't know how, but Lilith managed to always say his number in a sing song manner without hesitation or any sign of discomfort in any of the numbers and letters. Even if she didn't, he knew better then to keep her waiting. He would get to his knees and crawl for her if that was what she wanted._

_It was safer to go along with her insanity and genius then to fight and rebel. L100HT/C666CR1661 was no fool. He was a patient man, or what used to be a man. He wasn't what he used to be. He wasn't human and hasn't been in five hundred years that he could remember. He was a demon but unlike most sloppy seconds, he knew who he was and what he used to be. He was smarter then they were._

_L100HT/C666CR1661 approached her cautiously if not a bit curiously. The hellhounds have been fed and set loose to exorcise them for future missions to collect souls on the outskirts of a wasteland so vast that he didn't know if it had an ending at all. No one wanted to be there, not even demons. It was where souls go if they didn't have what it took to survive the transformation to being a demon. There you had the chances of being hunted by rogue hellhounds that didn't come back when called, by Shadow demons, soul eaters and souls that were less then human and less then demons. Those who used to be human would be feral minded and not even behave with an ounce of civility. Some were cowards. Some were aggressive._

_He shuddered at the thought of that place._

_Whatever he expected to see, it wasn't what he found when he finally made it to Lilith's side. His mother. His human mother. He didn't get a chance to say a word when Lilith explained why she was there. And what choice L100HT/C666CR1661 had._

_And coming to a decision wasn't all that hard._

_He picked Lilith. He denounced the woman who birthed him as a human and who influenced his decision to learn magic._

_“I want you to torture this woman, do so and I'll start teaching you how to make proper deals with humans. You might even earn a name.” Lilith said, and what else could he do but obey. With skills taught to him by Lilith and techniques he remembered from when he himself was on a rack he did what she said as soon as he vocally confirmed what she wanted with two simple words that finalized him denouncing his human mother._

_“Yes Mother.”_

_He knew she would like to hear that. And he was right when she parted with a giggle._

Of course what else was Crowley to do but denounce his witch of a mother. Denounce and torture and when she was nothing more then a broken down shell who wasn't fit to become a demon, he set her loose within the wastelands. She thought it was a mercy at first. Thanked him even. Crowley only smiled and replied with a calm “you're welcome” and that was that. He watched as she fled deeper and deeper in until he could hear her screams as she was caught by other not so human any more souls. No doubt raped among other things.

Crowley moved on. He didn't care that at one time his human mother tried to save him from the rack. Why should he? He was a demon and he was good at it.

Crowley made sure to track down the demon who made the deal with Fergus Roderick McLeod and sold him short for years. He was promised ten years but didn't get that. Instead that demon did the one thing Crowley doesn't condone and that was cheat on your deal without using proper methods or loopholes. It was like that useless crossroad demon Guy. Crowley disposed of that demon, all demons who pull such stunts.

Years passed him by, both topside and in Hell. Things changed and directions created. The apocalypse and dealing with the aggravating Azazel among other fanatical demons. Not really big thinkers for anything but mass destruction. There was so much missed opportunities in every slaughter you don't take part in. Deals to be made and souls to be earned.

So where they made with the big and flashy business that drew attention, Crowley slipped in back and made off with the prize when they unavoidably dropped the ball and lost all bets. He did have to give them credit for tenacity though. Crowley wasn't saying they were wrong. But they just lacked the same insight he did because they weren't created like he was.

Crowley in h is own way was unique and probably the most human demon you were going to get. That was what made him a threat. That and the fact that Crowley was a thinker and had no problem with overkill of threats before they became a threat rather then toying with them for too long like others have in the past.

There was the sound of a disagreement coming into his room, Crowley never closed the door completely because he wanted to hear anyone coming close to his current room. It wouldn't do if he couldn't hear anyone approaching in case they had any malicious intent. Crowley wouldn't blame them if they did, but he would consider them completely foolish because Crowley will defend himself. And his hounds outside of the building would come to his aid or at least try to.

His moment of relaxation and time spent with memories of long ago was officially over.

With silent steps he left his room making sure the door didn't make a sound or that he wasn't spotted. He couldn't really appear in the room, there was sigils among other things that kept teleportation impossible within the bunker. For him anyway, he's not sure if angels could and he hoped that they couldn't.

Standing next to the door of the library he could no longer detect Kevin and Dean for that matter. It was only the former angel and Sam. Neither of them agreed with Dean's deal, that much was obvious even before the deal was made. Castiel was giving a valid argument on why it was a bad idea and Sam obviously agreed with Castiel on that part. What they were disagreeing on however was how reckless Dean was behaving in going out. Castiel seemed pron to siding with Dean at times, argued that it was good for Dean to release his stress and Sam didn't want his brother out there without someone watching his back.

They weren't taking threats of Abaddon and angels lightly, at least they had that going for them. It left Crowley with a decision to make. Stay here and do nothing but plan his next move, which was handy and an important thing to do. Or go out and drag the Winchester back because in this case he agreed with the moose though his agreement was unknown to the two inside the room. They didn't know he was here.

“What do you want Crowley.” Castiel's said, sounding closer then he sounded before. Crowley only had to look through the corner of his eye to notice that the former angel was now standing just inside of the library room.

Apparently he wasn't as hidden as he hoped to be. Looking down he noted his shadow gave him away. Giving an annoyed look to the light above him before moving away from the wall and entering the room. It was decided, he was going to get out of the bunker for a few minutes.

“From the two of you, nothing but silence.” Crowley answered amicably, or what Crowley considered to be amicable. No doubt to there ears it wasn't. They obviously didn't approve of what Crowley said, not that it mattered to Crowley.

“What are your intentions with Dean, regarding your deal.” Castiel asked, getting straight to business. Crowley always liked that about the former angel. Never one to waste time, but Crowley could say that Castiel really needed to learn the finer points in conversation because after awhile speaking with Castiel gets to be a bit dull.

“It is exactly what it appears to be. A favour for a favour. For a lifetime.” Crowley answered, this subject was starting to sound like a broken record and Crowley would love to just leave it as is. Everyone should just accept it is, after all this was something that was between himself and Dean. Not between himself, Dean and everyone else.

Crowley was like that with every deal he has ever made. It was between him and the one who sought to make a deal. Simple and more then efficient because there wasn't any unnecessary drama to go with it. This situation only drove that belief home.

“Beyond that though, what do you want with him. You always seem to pick him out of the group to work with, to make deal's with. Only when it became necessary that you chose Sam due to the trials.” Castiel questioned, relentlessly almost. Crowley was tempted to snap his neck for a brief sensible moment. But that would only serve to be a problem. Dean could always ask him to bring back Castiel as that favour and then this whole situation would replay itself only with added drama.

Not only that, it was rather obvious that Castiel was an observant annoying thing. Above that though, Crowley wasn't fond of the direction this conversation was going because it was one that even Crowley didn't and couldn't answer. What was it about Dean Winchester that had Crowley targeting him most?

It could be a few things really. Some of those things were uncomfortable and dare he say almost human. He liked the Elder Winchester's company to a certain point so long as he gets breaks away from the boy. But there was also the fact that Dean Winchester may not be the chosen vessel for Lucifer and thus didn't get tampered with by Azazel, the boy still had a stench of Hell on him. Hell and Righteousness. A wonderful blend if Crowley could say so himself.

Dean Winchester also proved that he could be a fine demon even before he was fully turned due to being rescued, if it truly could be considered a rescue. Alastair's most prized student and most astute pupil and the old Torturer's toy to break.

No, it wasn't an easy topic for Crowley to answer or explain. Not that he would, not to Sam or Castiel or the little Prophet. So Crowley would keep the uneasiness of the topic with complicated answers to himself. Give them something else that no doubt would either annoy or anger them to some point.

“Because Dean Winchester amuses me, he's the leader of this mismatched team even though he doesn't want it. You boys follow him. So why not pick the obvious leader?” Crowley stated. In truth, Crowley wouldn't always pick the leader in a group, sometimes it's the one with least say and right that proves to be the most useful. You don't expect those pawns to be able to pull something off until they do, and that is what Crowley accesses.

Castiel's eyes narrowed of course, not liking and probably expecting that there was a lot more to it then what Crowley said. Castiel despite how dull he was in conversations was a quick learner and tricky in his own right. So it wouldn't surprise Crowley if the former angel didn't believe Crowley on that.

“If you harm Dean Winchester in any way from this point on, I will end you.” Castiel relented, had no choice to though. And Crowley would consider that to be a victory, however, he wasn't a fool to just move on and not take Castiel's words into account. It wouldn't be wise.

“Pretty words Castiel.” Crowley acknowledged with a slight grin, how could he not. Just because he won't take those words lightly didn't mean he couldn't say something in regard to those words.

Crowley took that moment as a sign to go. He needed something else to do, the two back in the library no longer proved to be options for his amusement or slight distraction until he got back to work reclaiming what was his. And killing off Abaddon, the want to be queen demon. Kevin wouldn't be an option either, the boy was needed as is and not bothered for the moment.

So that left Dean and lately there was one predictable place to find Dean.

The bar. It was far from the place Crowley liked to be seen in, but it was a place where he could make a few deals that would prove to be useful. Or at least in his past bars like that have been. Right now, however, he had another job to do. One that was a preferred task then dealing with the clowns back at the bunker, his half way house you could say. The best place when dealing with the headache's Crowley was stuck dealing with.

Wrinkling his nose slightly while casting the whole place in a disapproving glance he singled the elder Winchester out. Tucked away from everyone and left to himself. He could tell right away that the boy had a hexbag on him simply by the fact that even though he could clearly see the Winchester, he couldn't sense him like he could every other possible contract to be made in this place. Straightening his suit he approached Dean.

He wasn't noticed at first. Dean Winchester was well past the point of being drunk and a thousand different ways of killing him passed through Crowley's mind. It would be so easy to ride himself of an enemy. But it would be foolish to ride himself of an ally and a contract that could prove to be most useful in the coming years.

With that he simply set his hand on Dean's shoulder startling him. Of course, if Dean was a normal man he would just startle and possibly throw a punch or lowly protest. But being that he was a hunter Crowley had to hide the fact that the boy just drew a weapon with a firm grip on his wrist while forcing him to move over in the booth he chose to hoard as his own.

“Are you stupid?”

It was a rhetorical question of course, Crowley knew the answer. Yes Dean Winchester was incredibly stupid at the moment and it took a total of five minutes to have the weapon put away and the half empty bottle to be snatched up instead. Crowley sneered as he watched Dean drink it.

“Well at least you know how not to miss your mouth.” Crowley commented as he spied another drunk getting half his drink on him for a moment before it became clear that he was just cut off due to how drunk he was. At least the place seemed to have something resembling order here.

A total of ten minutes passed until Crowley decided enough was enough, he paid the bartender with a thought that Dean owed him money. Dean wasn't fond of the fact that he was just cut off himself as Crowley dragged him out of the bar. Not saying anything in return to the boy's protests.

Well until things got interesting.

Things the boy probably didn't mean to say were now being spilt. Secrets even, things that Sam might not even know. Crowley listened avidly then. Up until whatever the Winchester ate came up again and much to Crowley's dismay, his shoe wasn't spared. An arm around Crowley's shoulder and a face full of the stench of vomit and alcohol was what he had to deal with next.

A slurred question was almost missed because of it.

Crowley frowned at it. If it were anyone else asking that question they would have a snapped neck or firm words telling them off. But this was Dean Winchester, temporary ally and currently the most useful contract within his possession. A lifetime deal. Not to mention the boy was drunk enough that he was behaving in a way that wouldn't be within the norm for the Winchester. And not because he was drunk, but because he practically let himself be so vulnerable out in the open and around a demon of all things. There was so many things he could have done and some things he wanted to do.

But he didn't, surely that will count for something.

Wrapping his one arm around Dean's waist while holding an arm around his shoulders Crowley did his best to lead a stumbling Dean to the Impala. There was an unnatural attachment to this car, but then who was Crowley to talk. He was unnaturally attached to his meat suit. Unfortunately other people's timing wasn't in the cards today, just as he got to the car his phone went off.

“Bollocks...” Crowley's word came out in a harsh whisper but the point was clear enough to anyone sober enough to hear it. Dean excluded for obvious reasons. Leaning Dean up against the car he checked his phone. It was a text. The final parts needed to construct the weapon was ready for pick up. His contact didn't know that Crowley was a demon or what the pieces were for, which made this little deal clean and untraceable.

The beauty if this was that Crowley had a back up plan in case this gun doesn't work. A Knight of Hell wasn't an easy thing to deal with after all. But that would have to come in later and with careful juggling because after all his freedom was gained with the promise of a gun to kill a Knight of Hell. More or less.

The back up plan was simple and difficult. Crowley himself wouldn't be able to achieve it. For that he would need Dean, why because the boy was the older brother and dare he say more of a killer then Sam Winchester was despite the different temperaments and history with vessels and addictions.

Pushing Dean into the back seat of the car Crowley climbed into the driver seat and wondered what kind of reaction he would get for driving the Impala when he informs Dean of this mess later on and no doubt making sure to single Dean out when his hangover was at it's worst point.

During the short drive back the drunken question kept floating around in Crowley's mind though, not something he expected to happen considering the question and who was asking. Perhaps the whimsical quirks popping up was a side effect of the partial curing that took place. There was no doubt Crowley was all demon, but still one couldn't help if new developments were in place.

It wasn't until he got Dean out of the car and into the safety of the hunter's room did Crowley consider answering it at least partially. Three simple words would have to suffice.

“I earned it.”

That was all the Winchester was going to get, if he wanted more detail's then that, then he would have to let loose some more detailed descriptions of drunken secrets that were spilt. It was as simple as that. With that thought Crowley folded Dean's jacket and left it on the chair in front of the desk. On the desk he left the weapon that was almost used against him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The demon numbering that I have in the A/N would be used more so for younger demons. 1900's on for one simple reason, the more humans there was the more demons that could be made and the more expendable they became so why waste time giving a long thought out number. Older demons then that would have more numbers added in more significant numbers that could align with religion's. Sometimes one set of numbers or more. For Crowley, it was only one set “666”. 
> 
> Demon Numbers:  
> 1\. First would be the ltter of their superior.  
> Example: Azazel would be A, Alastair would be AL, Lilith would be L  
> 2\. Second would be the number spent on the racks.  
> 3\. Third would be the first letter(s) of their occupation.  
> Example: Hellhound Caretaker would be HC, Hellhound Trainer would be HT, Crossroad Demon would be CR, Torture would be T  
> 4\. Fourth would be the year your soul was delivered to Hell. 
> 
> Crowley's number meaning: L100HT/C666CR1661  
> L for Lilith  
> 100 is for the years spent on the Rack  
> HT/C is for Hellhounds due to the fact that Crowley at one point worked with them.  
> 666 known as the Devil number.  
> CR is for Crossroad Demon  
> 1661 is when he died


	4. Budding Bonds and Repaired Bridges

Opening his door to find Castiel standing there grimly wasn't exactly what Dean wanted to find when he woke up. To be honest, Dean didn't know what to find. He knows what today was, it almost feels like those times when he knew that day they would be trying to stop an un-winnable battle to keep a seal from breaking. But this time at least he didn't have Heaven and Hell trying to get to the same ending.

This time he had to deal with a civil war going on in Hell. First Heaven's civil war and now Hell was having one. Whoever came out on top would decide what happens next and Dean had to admit, he wanted Crowley to win. Of course for the obvious reason, the devil you know. It didn't have anything to do with the fact that Crowley was an okay guy when he doesn't try to attack your purpose, torture or kill you. The manipulation could be dealt with as it came.

“Dean.” Castiel greeted and Dean decided he didn't have enough coffee for this. He tried to push past Castiel, told him as much but the angel sometimes reminded Dean that he actually had no control or power over the angel. Instead Dean found himself pushed back until he was sitting on his bed and the bedroom door was closed.

“Wow Cas, if I knew this was how you-” Dean started and he knew it was a low blow. Probably unfair to the guy who declared them having a profound bond. To most outsiders it would seem like there was an attraction between them. But how could he let himself love or care for someone like that who saved his neck and soul so many times. It would feel more like owing Castiel then caring for him. And truth was, Dean didn't know how fully.

“Be quiet Dean.” Castiel cut him off, probably saving himself from looking like a bigger ass then he already was. And Dean knows he's an asshole. Always was, it a was a poor man's excuse for defence.

Dean closed his mouth and fought hard to make eye contact. Shame and guilt clawing at him. He knows Castiel doesn't approve of what choice Dean made regarding Crowley. He knows Sam doesn't approve. Sam will be angry with him for some time now but at least he was alive and at least they had a way to fight back even if it came with the aid and at the end of a contract with Crowley.

“Crowley delivered the weapon today. Nearly got shot from Sam with it, but it's here-” Castiel started to say, but it was obvious he had more to say. And Dean was the type who was good at denying and not dealing with things. It was what he was good at so he immediately tried to do just that.

“Good so ca-” But with those words he didn't get far, Castiel wasn't having any of it.

“I'm not finished yet and you will listen to what I have to say. I have done so much for you, sacrificed so much for you. All I am asking for in return is for you to listen to me. Dean can you silence yourself long enough to do so?” Castiel said, and for a second Dean was reminded that this wasn't just some guy. This was an angel of the currently missing in action lord. A soldier and not a civilian who you could push around verbally or physically.

And Castiel was having none of it.

“Ya... Okay, okay shoot.” Dean said, he let his own annoyance be heard through the gruff tone that had Dean wondering if it was that much of a strain on Jimmy Novak's vocal cords when Castiel spoke through him.

“I do not approve-” Castiel stated, firm in what he was saying.

Dean of course opened his mouth but was silenced by a look. Castiel could be one intimidating individual sometimes and Dean forgets this on too many occasions due to clueless acts and the near innocence in his not knowing social skills.

“I do not approve of your deal with Crowley. I do not like the fact that you, the Righteous man, are serving Hell even if it's only to one demon it is still Hell. You are bound by a contract until your death. You must do whatever that demon says no matter how you feel on the matter and the only thing you can do about it is ask for a favour in return. It will not change the fact that you are employed and I cannot save you from that-” Castiel said firmly, knowing what he was saying at this point and making sure Dean understood that Castiel knew it as well. More then what Dean said back in the library. And putting it in a way that made the situation even more painfully clear.

“I'm not asking you to...” Dean said, he knows he's supposed to just listen but he doesn't like being spoken to like this. It made him feel small and like a failure and Dean naturally goes on the defensive on those occasions. It's only because it's Castiel that he was holding his tongue this much.

“I am aware of that. However, that does not change how I feel.” Castiel stated, forgiving Dean for interrupting and Dean couldn't help but zero in on the fact that Castiel was speaking of emotions. And the fact that Dean noticed wasn't lost on Castiel either. The angel sat down beside Dean and once again forgetting the importance of personal space. Dean didn't move.

“I know. But it's not for my soul, that should count right?” Dean said, and he knew instantly that it was a foolish thing to say because Castiel did say that Dean was in essence working for Hell in a roundabout way. Crowley could ask anything of him and he had to do it. A favour for a favour was just a friendly way of putting it because Crowley could come to him and ask for a favour anytime he wished and Dean couldn't say no. Instead Dean would have to ask for something in return.

“You can still fall.” Castiel stated almost coldly, but that coldness wasn't directed at Dean. It was just the truth of the matter and Dean wondered when it happened that Castiel could make him feel as guilty as John Winchester was able to? It was an uncomfortable thought that was shoved away and salted and burned, Dean hoped it wouldn't come back.

“I know.” Dean acknowledged. Knowing that there wasn't anything more to say, he knew and Castiel knew.

“I will not be able to stop that.” Castiel said and Dean wasn't exactly happy where this was going. He could see the ending of the conversation already. He didn't want it to come, but he wouldn't be able to stop it anyway.

“I know.” So those two words was Dean's simple response.

Dean with his habit of self loathing and guilt almost came to the conclusion that this would be the end of that friendship with the angel who fell so many times for Earth. For Dean. Dean would deserve it, he knows this. He's working and practically bound to a demon now.

“I will still be your friend Dean Winchester, I will try to keep your fall from happening while abiding to Crowley's rules.” Castiel said and to be honest that was the lat thing Dean expected. But he would be a liar if he said that he wasn't relieved and happy to hear those words. It was a nice thought to know someone still wanted to be in your corner.

A knock on the door drew both of their attention. Sam letting Dean know that he was ready whenever Dean was. It was time to go to the spot where Abbadon was tracked to. Dean acknowledged Sam and took one look at the stone machete on his wall. His weapon from Purgatory and he remembered his friend from there. He hoped that someone who used to be in charge would save him. Give the vampire peace because Dean honestly believes he deserves it.

Dean grabbed his chromed colt 1911 and made sure it was fully armed before tucking it away. A knife and his jacket later, he was leaving his room and Castiel followed after him. Dean could rely on Castiel doing that.

Sam wasn't happy with him and that much was obvious with the tense words and attempt at being professional. Dean let him, he deserved that. He made a deal with Crowley and he made a deal with two powerful witches. A tough pill to swallow, but that all had to be pushed aside. They were attacking Abbadon again.

This time with a Winchester Rifle that he hoped would kill the demon. Crowley stood by the Impala with a smug look on his face, Dean could have sworn he saw annoyance flash in the direction of Castiel. But like Sam's disappointment, that had to be pushed aside. They had work to do.

“Shotgun.” Crowley said and Dean glared. Sam got into the passenger seat without a word.

“Backseat.” Dean snapped and got in. He didn't have to see to know that Crowley was annoyed even as he made the backseat his home and ignored Castiel's presence. It wasn't until five minutes before Crowley spoke up and asked why they didn't just use angel express to get there.

“We require the weapons found in the trunk, it would be useful against the demons who sided with Abbadon.” Castiel stated and Dean was glad that he didn't have to be the one explaining every little decision to the demon who looked positively annoyed with Castiel's existence and presence in the back seat with him.

Dean could have sworn he heard Crowley mutter something along the line, 'the pissants' but he couldn't be sure.

Sam only spoke when he needed to and it was only for business and for the first time Dean wished that Sam got in the back and one of the other two was in front. At least then he didn't have to deal with Sam's passive aggressive attitude while in front row for it. It was moments like this, he would take Sam verbally fighting with him over the passive aggressive stuff. At least he could confront that and they could get past it.

Dean could confront it, but there was other things that had to be done and killing Abbadon was on top of the list. For demons anyway. Then they had to worry about Metatron and Heaven. Wonderful.

The drive was a silent one but they still arrived at the place that they tracked Abbadon down was an warehouse that was shut down for the weekend, only the minimum was there for crew and unfortunately for those people, they were possessed. Dean knew that the right action would be to help the humans being worn, get the demons out. But the weak excuse of being too many of them came up. Dean remembered the time a whole police station was exorcised.

There was a total of nine demons. Nine demons against the four of them. One angel. One demon and two hunters. Might be an even fight. Here they go.

_~ Time Skip ~_

Dean and everyone else had to settle for a failure of a day. Nothing went as it was supposed to go. But that was life and by now Dean should have suspected it to happen.

Abbadon knew they were coming, Crowley must have had a spy in his ranks and they got screwed in the end. It was lucky that they got out with minimal injuries. Sam was sore, bruised and Dean knew he walked away with a sprained rib or worse. It was only because of Castiel that he won't be going to bed with that pain. The sense of failure will stick with them longer then the physical effects.

Castiel was frustrated, but uninjured and at least the guy took down a few demons in the meantime. That was something right? Dean had to admit, it was pretty cool seeing the angel smite the demons with stony determination. But Dean had his own problem on his hands. He was the one in charge with killing Abbadon. And with the Winchester rifle that was made for them.

Dean himself killed a couple of demons. But the leader of this horde wore a smug smile on her painted lips. Dean shot at her once in a stomach and she made a look of pain, but beyond that nothing. The situation turned against him then. She rather did enjoy beating him down and Dean hated her for it. Crowley was the one who came to his aid there while Sam dealt with a few demons on his own. She got injured from an angel's blade thanks to Crowley but it didn't look like it would kill her and she didn't stick around long enough once she realized most of her followers were killed.

Instead they were left with the clean up and had to get out before authorities figure things out and come looking because even though these were demons, they were humans in death. That was a situation Dean couldn't afford to handle and it wasn't out of not caring. He had bigger things to worry about. Supernatural things that the ignorant couldn't understand.

Any thing that could have recorded them was instantly burnt out by both Castiel and Crowley before they left. They can't have their image recorded and used. Dean and Sam went through that and had the FBI on their tail for some time until truths came out of what's really going on.

They practically fled back here, the bunker. Kevin was waiting on them and a worried expression on his face. Dean reassured him as Castiel made quick work of injuries and the rest was their problem. Beyond that, they went to their own area's. Dean still can't believe that Crowley stuck around and had his own room. Dean couldn't help but wonder how badly his parents would be rolling in their graves if they had graves in the first place. Same thing with Bobby.

It took a total of three hours for Dean to make a horrible decision. He grabbed a second beer and at first he thought he would be seeking out Sam, but found himself in front of Crowley's room. The demon inside, Dean could hear him cursing in a language that Dean didn't recognize.

With a knock and a replied snap of 'come in', Dean entered and noticed Crowley sitting on his bed. Whatever he was drinking was gone and obviously not what the demon wanted. Crowley eyed what Dean had with disapproval and suspicion.

“What's this Winchester?” Crowley asked pointedly as he made a point of hesitation before taking the offered lesser drink he no doubt considers it. Dean would be insulted later. Instead he decided to settle on this being a peace offering. Dean knows what it's like to walk away as a failure and even though this was a foolish thing. He reached out for the demon who no doubt will use it against him.

“A drink. Think you need one, you're out of that fancy stuff you drink.” Dean replied, giving as much attitude as Crowley was giving. It earned him a glare as Crowley leaned back slightly to examine Dean which was something Dean didn't like all that much. Not for the first time Dean couldn't help but realize how small Crowley's vessel was. Not small as in thin, but the man was short. It was funny how you don't always notice something like that because of how someone held themselves.

Whatever hesitation or suspicion that was there disappeared in favour of a smug look.

“Now we both know it's not that. What's with the peace offering?” Crowley obviously couldn't help himself at this point, poking at the whole situation of the beer sharing. Dean couldn't stop the frown even if he wanted to.

“It's no peace offering?” Dean corrected, a glare now accompanying the frown he had no. How was it that Crowley could get these expressions out of him so easily? Must be a demon thing.

“Ah, so sorrows over a shared failure?” Crowley said, making it sound like he now understood what this whole thing was. There was still an air of smugness and mockery in him and Dean really regretted coming here at this point. But what could you do when you have a skill in doing things that will be regretted later?

You roll with the punches.

“I will shoot you in your face if you keep this up.” Dean threatened, and he wasn't kidding because he had his gun tucked in his jeans still. His knife was cleaned off and the Winchester Rifle cleaned and set up in Sam's room because Dean had enough weapons in his. Sam wasn't too fond of it being hung on the wall but understood the reasons and the usefulness in having it easily accessible for him.

“Promises, promises darling.” Crowley shot back, a curl of his lips looked almost like a dare. Dean glared.

Silence fell between them, Crowley grimacing at the taste of the drink and Dean getting some form of pleasure of an obvious hedonistic and spoiled demon having to deal with slumming in all means including cheap beer.

Before Dean could get uncomfortable with the fact that he was standing in a bedroom with Crowley and drinking a beer with the said demon, the silence was broken by the bottle being put down and a complaint about cheap beer. It was not even close to being finished. Neither beer was.

“I'm going to have to teach you about proper drinks one day. But not now, I may have a plan to remedy this day's failure. Another weapon that could be of use.” Crowley commented as he eyed the nearly full bottle a bit dubiously. Dean wanted to comment on the fact that Crowley obviously thought he could teach Dean how to drink properly or whatever, Dean was fine with what he got a hold of he didn't need to learn how to drink the fancy and expensive drinks. You take a sip and swallow, that was it. And there was no such thing as proper drinks so long as they were drinkable.

But instead Dean focused on the second part of what Crowley said. Another plan. Another weapon. If that wasn't attention catching, Dean didn't know what was.

“Ya, and that is?” Dean asked, letting his drink go forgotten as he focused on what Crowley was saying.

“First we have to find it's owner. The first murderer and a distant ancestor to you. We need to find Cain.” Crowley spoke, knowing and no doubt enjoying the fact that he obviously had Dean's attention at the moment. The guy was high on himself so he liked to be the centre of attention just as much as he was obviously okay with going unnoticed.

“Cain, as in the Abel and Cain, Father of Murder Cain?” Dean had to make sure he heard correctly. Michael's words coming back to him in the first time in a long time. That Cain?! Was that even possible.

_“Stretching back to Cain and Abel. It's in your blood, your father's blood, your family's blood.”_

“That's what I said, wasn't it? I just don't know where to look.” Crowley stated firmly if not with a bit annoyance at the fact that Dean was repeating what was just said. But Crowley had to understand, this wasn't just some monster. This was Cain, the guy Michael said there family tree started. Well one of the guys anyway.

Dean decided to leave at that point, though he did say that he would help by looking into it. Seeing if his Father had anything written about Cain anywhere.

There was one question on his mind though, one nagging question. What was the cost of going this route and would Dean be able to walk the walk? Dean knows that if you work with a demon, there was costs even if it was the devil you knew or at least was familiar with. It made the rest of his night uneasy.

And worse, Dean knows what he would do. Especially if the sweetened promises meant that Abbadon was dead, the angels back in Heaven and Sam safe.

**= Crowley =**

Crowley watched as Dean left the room, conversation and debates still fresh in the boy's mind no doubt. Crowley didn't bother moving from his spot on the bed. The sad excuse of a beer sat mocking him on the bedside table Crowley had. Crowley really should take it and dispose of it, Crowley wouldn't call that drink something worth drinking. And yet, much to his mild irritation that was where it stayed.

His mind travelled back to the day's events as he got himself comfortable on the bed. It wasn't the bed back in one of his many hideouts but it will do just fine for the time being then it was back to his proper bed's and creature comforts.

The welcomed isolation left him to think over things and deal with the conclusion that today didn't go well at all. It was a bad day altogether.

First there was Castiel poking his nose in something that had nothing to do with him. The deal's made between Crowley and the angel's favorite human was of no concern to Castiel and even more so, none of his business. That was something that belonged to Dean as well as Crowley. A deal's a deal sort of thing. Not to mention the confidential nature that should have stuck but didn't.

The nerve Castiel had in trying to intervene and extinguish the deal right out from under them had Crowley seething and cursing the oddball angel. It was to a point where Crowley was very tempted to do something unkind towards the angel. Something that would hurt the angel, even if Crowley couldn't physically harm him at the moment though it was possible.

And that was probably why he came to the idea about Cain.

Crowley knows that there are going to be consequences to baring such a mark. But even he didn't know exactly what. He just had good educated guesses. And Dean was the best candidate for this scheme. Not Sam as some would think due to the fact of the demon blood, temper and not to mention being a vessel to Lucifer. No Dean was the better candidate because one he was the older brother who sacrificed a lot for his little brother but he was also the one who was supposed to kill his little brother. Mirroring Cain with one exception. Sam was alive.

Dean was also a killer. A killer with grey coloured morals, but he was a killer all the same. And he enjoyed it, though that was something Dean would never admit to anyone least of all himself. Instead the boy took it out on himself with self-hatred and perceived failures.

Castiel won't be happy because the angel had some if not a good idea what the cost would be or the consequences at least. But then, the angel was a pawn for quite some time so he might not know as much.

With the plan set in motion, in his own mind he closed his eyes and let himself fall to sleep for the night. He didn't need sleep but it was enjoyed all the same.

_~ Next Morning ~_

Crowley was annoyed at the sound of someone dropping something on his stomach. Crowley opened his eyes, wide awake and annoyed that someone approached him while he was sleeping. Luckily for that individual it was Dean and he just dropped a well used notebook on top of him. Crowley made a move to hand it back instantly, but Dean made no move to take it. Annoyed.

“My Dad was looking for the weapon that belonged to Cain. The bookmark.” Dean said, though uneasy when Crowley opened the book to the place the bookmark saved. The discomfort that Dean showed was enough of an unintentional apology for disturbing his rest.

Looking at it, he was tempted to start skimming through the entire book. But doing that would ruin things before they even start. So Crowley turned his attention to the numbers.

“What do those numbers in the margins mean?” Crowley asked, hunters and their codes and numbering. Could they not use something more universal, it would save him the headache of deciphering them.

“None of your business.” An instant thoughtless reply. Crowley gave Dean an annoyed look that he made sure cut to the bone. His look alone would be able to tell Dean that his lack of explaining was not helping their case and becoming a hindrance quicker then it should. Dean must have caught the meaning because he seemed to be annoyed and uncomfortable. Crowley could understand, this was a hunter's handbook and Crowley was a demon. Papa Winchester would be rolling in his grave if he had one and if he knew that Dean willingly handed the book over to Crowley.

With a reluctant shift before hardening himself, firming his decision in his mind. _No going back now Winchester._ Crowley couldn't help but think to himself.

“It's a code – one of my Dad's storage lockers. He may have put something about the case there.” Dean explained and Crowley could tell this was grating on the boy's nerves. He wasn't pleased with having to tell Crowley this but they both had a goal and sacrifices had to be made. Giving up one storage locker's location was just one sacrifice that had to be made.

“And what does the 'T' next to the numbers mean?” Crowley asked as Dean took a look at the book as it stayed open in Crowley's hands between them. Crowley wondered what Sam and Castiel thought of this. Dean doing what Sam did, working with a demon. The only difference was Crowley wasn't feeding Dean blood and they weren't having regular dirty romps in bed as tempting as that bit might be in Crowley's good moods. Crowley was also not trying to release Lucifer, he was just trying to get what's his back and the Dean got roped into helping him do just that.

“Not a clue.” Dean answered and it was honest. Crowley wanted to poke at that, poke at the fact that Papa Winchester didn't tell his boy's everything. Dean was once again left in the dark by his old man. Crowley refrained out of an uncomfortable act of mercy. Goals would be jeopardized if Crowley gave in so easily to his temptations.

Getting up and straightening his cloths and handing the book back while grabbing his jacket. It was clear that they were going out to deal with this now.

“Fine. Let's go find daddy's man cave, then, shall we?” Crowley stated and found too much amusement in the glare he got. But Dean relented enough to follow Crowley out of the room. Crowley watched as Dean cut in front of him and walked to the garage. So they were driving then. It meant one thing, Dean wouldn't give Crowley the means to know the location of the storage locker.

Though he was less impressed when the Impala's trunk was opened and a near feral grin appeared on Dean. He was enjoying himself.

“Get in, if you want to go to the storage locker and help me find this thing.” Dean said and Crowley glared. Crowley decided to add sadist to the long list of derangement's known to the Eldest Winchester. And faintly wondered if he should point out that even to this day Crowley could spot echo's of Alastair in the boy.

Crowley made sure his displeasure was known as he climbed in, much to the amusement of Sam and Castiel who just showed up in the garage to bid Dean farewell no doubt, unless they were coming and then it was more humiliation for Crowley to handle. He will have his day though!

The ride wasn't comfortable and Crowley swore that there was bumps that were purposely caught along the way. But that wouldn't make sense, this was Dean's baby. He had an unhealthy attachment to this hunk of metal.

Crowley made sure Dean knew exactly what he thought of him as he was allowed out and before he could do much else, he found a bag put over his head. Crowley couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes at that. Seriously, what was with all the secrecy it was just one locker. There was no doubt plenty of others.

Inside the storage locker Crowley made sure he didn't let any chance to make comments pass him by. How could he pass up a chance like this?

“Here we go. Looks like my Dad was working with another hunter when he nabbed Abaddon's pet.” Dean said as he no doubt skimmed through the file he had in his hand. Holding up a picture for Crowley to see from where he was standing. A place where there wasn't much information he could get a hold of and use for the future.

“I guess the 'T' didn't stand for terrible father. It stood for -” Crowley knows he would probably get shot at some point for that remark, there was a lot of daddy issues tied into the Winchester family as a whole.

“Tara. Doesn't ring a bell.” Dean interrupted before he continued to read what was in the file before absentmindedly continuing,  
“All right, looks like they interrogated the demon. Then they exorcised him. But not before he mentioned the First Blade.” Crowley felt a surge of smugness curl in him. He loved it when he was right and made sure Dean knew that as well, which didn't do anything to impress the Winchester in front of him.

They headed out not too long after that, in search for the hunter Tara.

Crowley couldn't wait. This was a change of pace and this felt like it was going to be more successful then the attack on Abaddon and the Winchester rifle that turned up to be a failure.

Crowley was stuck with a bag on his head again but this time he was allowed in the passenger's seat no doubt because it was getting dark. It was only until they hit another town that the bag came off and Dean was pulling into the driveway of a pawnshop. Crowley noted that Dean looked tired, but he knew as a hunter the boy could work tired and drunk if he had to.

The meeting with her worked out surprisingly well. She wasn't fond of the fact that Dean was working with a demon and Dean wasn't amused with the fact that Crowley declared them to be friends. Although Crowley was amused that Dean got slashed with holy water and he couldn't help but wonder how often that happened to the eldest Winchester.

In the end they were led to Missouri.

Crowley was glad to have left her behind, woman had nerves but he didn't want to put up with her for much longer. He would have eventually tried if not successfully snapped her neck.

The drive was a hopeful one, or at least Crowley would have considered it as one. They were one step closer and Crowley was one step closer to reclaiming his throne because if his cards were played right then that meant one thing. Dean would get the Mark of Cain, they would have a clear way of killing off Abaddon.

As they pulled up to a farmhouse, Crowley put his next plan in motion. He may have been born to direct but he was an excellent con artist as well. Had to be in order to be a crossroad demon especially one as successful as he is.

The whole meeting with Cain had Crowley on his toes and he had to keep up the act to his utmost skill possible. A lot of information was found out in that meeting. The conversations, the revelations and finding out that why Cain just dropped off the map. He fell in love and gave up his old ways for her. Even after she was killed he stayed retired for her sake. How could a demon love a human woman so completely and she love a demon enough to forgive and accept him?

It was probably the most uncomfortable part of the meeting. Colette was her name, Crowley considered her to be rather bland but there must have been something about her that sparked a connection. Cain was loved and Crowley hated that he felt a surge of jealousy. He blamed it on the fact that Cain was more powerful then Crowley was, that's the story he would give if anyone ever discovered that annoying emotion.

In the end Crowley was left sitting in the passenger's seat with Dean driving down the road, the long way back to the bunker.

_“So I buried her, and I walked away.” Crowley watched Cain say, observing only at the moment._

_“Well, I'm sorry – truly. But I have to stop Abaddon. So, where is the blade?” Dean said, persistent as ever and that was what Crowley wanted._

_“No.” Cain said as he walked away, a test no doubt. Either that or the Father of Murder had morals then people expected._

_Dean of course wasn't having any of it and followed after, Crowley considered that to be perfect,_   
_“Hey! Listen, you son of a bitch. You may be done killing, but I'm not.” That last bit would concern Dean's baby brother, but not Crowley. It was perfect because it was needed for this._

_Crowley plunged Dean's demon killing knife in his own chest, which was enough to surprise Crowley a bit and it showed how indestructible the older demon seemed to be._

_“You never give up on anything, do you?” Cain said, could that be tiredness in his voice? Crowley couldn't be sure._

_“Never.” Dean said, young and determined and aged by experience. Broken goods and the most usable killer Crowley knows._

_“Well, I do.” Cain stated. Crowley at this point thought that the situation might not be going the way he had hoped that it would._

The memory of Cain giving Dean the Mark of Cain fresh in his mind. A memory of success as it should have been, because it truly meant that the possibility of killing Abaddon was now a clear possibility in the future and Crowley could work on reclaiming his throne and destroying any lingering rumour of his failures and defeats from demons minds.

_Cain came back not too long after he left. Dean wasn't amused, Crowley was semi-relieved because that meant something might be going right finally._

_“What the hell, man? You in or out? I'm getting head spins.” Dean snapped, frustration clear in his voice. The threat outside the house was on his mind as well no doubt, it was on Crowley's as well._

_“I can give you the mark, Dean, if it's what you truly want.” Cain offered and Crowley watched in well concealed interest and excitement. It wouldn't do if Dean spotted it._

_“What are you talking about?” Dean demanded and Crowley waited for Cain's answer, he knew what it would be._

_“The mark could be transferred to someone who's worthy.” Cain explained and Crowley knew that would be Dean, again that was why he picked Dean over Sam for this one._

_“You mean a killer like you?” Dean pointed out and Crowley wondered if pointing out the obvious was a skill of Dean's._

_“Yes.” Cain answered._

_“Can I use it to kill that bitch?” Dean asked, again obvious. Crowley said nothing._

_“Yes. But you have to know with the mark comes a great burden. Some would call it a great cost.” Cain explained without giving away too much information and Crowley figured that was the bit about him being a demon that came through. Sweeten the pot without giving away the fine print._

_And in true Winchester spirit, Dean didn't try to look at the fine print._

_“Yeah, well, spare the the warning label. You had me at 'kill the bitch'.” Dean stated. Just like Crowley figured._

_“Good luck, Dean. You're gonna need it.” Cain said and Crowley wondered if he should consider the whole situation carefully._

_“Yeah, I get that a lot. Let's dance.” Dean stated and Crowley wondered if Dean cared at all. Probably not, the self hating moron tended to put himself in situations like this for his brother and anyone else deemed good enough to save with little care for his own soul and life._

_Crowley watched as Cain gripped Dean's forearm and red veins spread from the mark on Cain to Dean, burning a similar mark into Dean's forearm. Dean made a sound of pain and Crowley couldn't stop himself from saying Dean's name._

That was probably the only part that wasn't an act...

The concern at the sound of the pain. And that left him with a new problem as he sat in the passenger's seat of the Impala with a solemn and quiet Dean. Dean seemed to be reflecting on what just happened. The memory of demons being trapped inside the house and the red light. Crowley was glad he was outside with Dean then in there, with Cain.

Half way back to the bunker, midday by now Crowley decided to do something that he would deem kind. That and it would get the notion of cost and price out of his mind. He was a demon, he knows more then most the cost of deals and the burdens of baring things. And Dean was now walking hand in hand with more costs and burden's then any other hunter of this age.

Crowley won't say it's his fault. It wasn't. He was just going to take the Winchester out for a proper drink and not at some low ranking bar. First thing's first. He had to get the Winchester out of jeans and flannel. Where he wanted to take Dean, it required a suit and a membership which Crowley has but Dean doesn't. But that didn't matter, he owned the owner's soul and reaped it seven years ago and the son knows not to push Crowley.

“Turn left.” Crowley commanded, Dean of course refused and asked why. It took a few back and forth jabs and convincing before Dean was pulling into the parking lot of Crowley's choosing. A store with expensive suits lining the window. Dean was confused of course.

“What do you think I would take you somewhere dressed like that Winchester?” Crowley said, indicating the way Dean was dressed with a pointed look. Dean wasn't entirely pleased and his arms crossed defensively. Crowley couldn't help but smirk. This was his area of comfort, and not Dean's.

“What's wrong with the way I dress, it's comfortable.” Dean demanded as he forcefully uncrossed his arms, knowing that Crowley must have spotted the unconscious act for what it was. He'll be defensive verbally even more so now, or surprisingly compliant.

“It's inappropriate for where I'm taking you.” Crowley answered as he opened the passenger's door and was half way to getting out when Dean opened his own door, more reluctant then anything. Dean didn't trust Crowley and that was fine, Crowley would be mildly concerned if Dean did foolishly trust him.

It wasn't until they were half way to the door, Crowley in lead that Dean spoke up. Defensive mechanism in place. Making jokes. Inside Dean was even worse, defensive and snappish at times but with careful wording from Crowley they managed to get him into a rather nice well fitting suit. Nothing like the rented suits that never fit right. Expensive and showed Dean off in all the right area's.

“Well, now you dress up nicely. Very nice on the eyes Winchester.” Crowley couldn't help but say, and the shocking part of that was that he was speaking the truth. There wasn't a sign of trying to manipulate or con Dean into anything. It was frustrating but even that one sentence could become a tool for the future. It all depended.

Dean seemed pleased and for a second was almost flattered and Crowley was okay with that and hated that he was. Dean hide it afterwards with rash comments and forced declarations and Crowley knows that it was another defensive act. Crowley couldn't help but wonder what he could find out what's underneath all those defensive mechanisms even if it meant strapping Dean down to a rack and carving those secrets and problems free with finely wielded tools.

As it was, Crowley will settle for this all the while barking at Dean to be careful and not ruin the suit before they even get to the destination. Dean of course snapped back because he was never the type to take something while lying down. It was what made Dean entertaining.

And Crowley settled himself back in the passenger seat, he rather did enjoy having someone drive him around. He was never one to drive himself, it wasn't the same.

The rest of the day was spent at his chosen very special little club Crowley. Forcing Dean to drink the more expensive drinks rather then a simple beer in a bottle. Most of the stuff here took a good ten years to brew properly and some even longer. Sure there was the more common drinks you would find in lesser bars, but they were made into something better.

Crowley had a VIP booth set up for himself and the Winchester.

Let this be his silent way of making it up to Dean for the burden's the man will now bare on his shoulders because of the Mark of Cain. A mark Crowley manipulated Dean into getting because of two reasons. One they needed Abaddon dead and two, Castiel poked his nose where it didn't belong. Crowley effectively destroyed the angel's claim to him and eventually the mark on the man's shoulder wouldn't stick around because of the touch of Hell in the form of a mark.

But Dean doesn't know this and Crowley didn't plan for him to finding out for some time yet. He knows it was unavoidable because Dean was smarter then most thought he was. Crowley reluctantly admitted that for one simple reason, he wasn't a fool and he wasn't the one to underestimate the Winchester brothers. So he gave credit where due.

As the day eased into the afternoon, food and drink was brought regularly. On Crowley's credit of course, it was handy owning a piggy banker. Dean relaxed along the way and Crowley was surprised that the boy was good company. Better then most that Crowley had to suffer with lately.

It was also giving Crowley time to reevaluate Dean and his usefulness as both a hunter and as a temporary ally. Crowley was also using the time to reevaluate himself. You must do that often or else you'll grow lax and that was how older demons were killed off. They grew relaxed in their power and arrogance.

After some time Crowley couldn't help himself.

“You're drunk Winchester.” Crowley pointed out as Dean slumped and Crowley almost mourned the state of the suit that Dean was wearing. At least the Winchester hasn't spilt anything on it yet.

“Yeah, well, this is good stuff...” Dean stated, voice slurred and relaxed. Most likely a tone that some hasn't heard in a long time and it was Crowley who heard it. Crowley wondered if that was a good thing or if he should be concerned.

“I know.” Crowley stated, of course it was good stuff. Crowley only liked to drink the best and yet that unfinished beer Dean gave him still sat on the bedside table. Damn. Sentimental possibly and that wasn't good for a demon. But then, Cain was and he was fine? Well, he was fine.

Crowley watched as a glass was raised as agreement and raised an eyebrow. He wondered if he should point out that Dean was agreeing with a demon but decided not to kill the mood by ordering a glass of water. Dean needed to keep himself hydrated, it wouldn't do to just drink alcohol. Dean was human after all.

It was only after a good half an hour that Crowley decided to be merciful and stop Dean before he passes out and making a fool of himself at a place where Crowley enjoys relaxing when not in Hell or at a crossroad. Or possibly to stop Dean from embarrassing Crowley? Dean was semi-compliant of course. Wanted more alcohol because the man was a drunk, but went along with Crowley and put up a major fuss when Crowley took the car's keys in order to drive.

But Crowley wouldn't have been king if he didn't know how to get what he wanted. In the end Dean was slumped in the passenger's seat and Crowley was doing what he didn't like doing. Driving a car and heading back to the bunker with what's going to be a grouchy with a hangover Dean at some point.

Crowley was stuck with his own thoughts and perhaps that was the worst thing.

How much effect did Sam have on him? Up to this point, it felt and seemed like nothing because after it wore off he went back to normal or what he perceived as normal.

Now he wasn't so sure and that left him uncomfortable. He'll have to drop Dean off and leave to figure things out.

He would also have to wonder about the new goal that was budding in his mind the entire day since he saw Dean in a suit. Or at least the notion that reappeared during today's events.

He wanted to posses Dean in some sort of way, physical. Emotional, whatever. That part he had to figure out before he does something incredibly short sided and stupid. Crowley hasn't gotten this far in his existence by doing something short sided and stupid. So he had to get a hold of himself and fast. There was too many variables that weren't accounted for, too much risks and it made a future he wanted not as simple anymore. Not that being King of Hell was simple, it was hard work and it took a lot to get it to the way he liked it.

All in all, the entire situation that came out of today was annoyingly...

... human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that this chapter will be fine, took me forever to finish it and I couldn't help but bring in the Mark of Cain. I'm really fascinated by that story line in the show. And I truly do hope that this isn't to quick of a jump in regards to the pairing, though it's not really much of one. It's just realizations on Crowley's part so far. Which annoy him a bit lol.


End file.
